


a perfect storm

by caelesalad



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26002036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caelesalad/pseuds/caelesalad
Summary: ♔Jennie looks almost impressed at how she had forced those words out, and a little nervous, if that was even possible. She opens her mouth, closes it, and opens it again. Hesitates.“You see, I don’t know a lot of things. I thought I knew my parents, I didn’t. I thought I knew Taehyung, I didn’t, and I most definitely didn’t know he was going behind my back with my boyfriend, however preposterous our relationship was. I thought I knew this dress would be the perfect length for me, but it’s a little too long for my liking. So I don’t know, but I think, yeah."And I think you look great, and I think Theo is way too dumb and not even cute or hot enough for you, and I think you would make a great trophy wife to a rich heiress.” She laughs at the look on Jisoo's face. “And I think your face is a little too red to be healthy.”Jisoo could love Jennie, bitchiness and beauty and brilliance and all. If only she would let her.
Relationships: Jennie Kim/Kim Jisoo, Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V
Comments: 64
Kudos: 178





	1. i've never seen a diamond in the flesh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo sees a diamond (in the flesh). That is, she sees Jennie, shining and sparkling in all her dazzling, expensive grandeur. (She also sees them quite literally—dangling from Her Majesty's earlobes like crystallized snowflakes.)

Jisoo realizes she needs to get the fuck out of there as soon as she steps foot into what the invitation stated would be _the Party of the Century_ in elegant cursive letters adorned with petal pink flowers and cute shrubbery. (And kittens. Kittens lying down on patches of grass, kittens kissing in meadows, kittens perched adorably on the tips of the L’s and E’s, their paws curled against their fuzzy chests. What was the deal with them? Jisoo liked dogs way more.) But whether it’s the intricate decorations draped over gold railings, or the live band playing their loud, lively music that thrums excitedly in her veins, or the sheer number of people, colors, and scents, she doesn’t know—but she gulps and takes one hesitant step at a time, closer to the bustling center of the grand room. The deeper she goes, the more she starts feeling like she’s seconds from suffocating, as guests jostle and push and yell for each other, pressing down on her. But it’s a giddy, dizzy kind of sensation, and her breath catches in a surprised _oh_ as she spots the host a few feet away from her—Jennie Kim. Her bright turquoise eye shadow flashes warningly at her even from this far a distance.

For all the flocks of adoring girls and glancing boys surrounding her electric-blue cloud of a dress, Jennie might as well put on a diamond tiara and declare herself the official reigning monarch of Serenity Academy. It wasn’t like anyone would argue. In fact, they’d accept the news with wild enthusiasm, preaching about her (fairly nonexistent, as far as Jisoo was concerned) redeeming qualities and spreading stories of her unwavering kindness. Jisoo snorts quietly at the thought, leaning over to sneak a glass of what she thinks is punch, but quickly realizes is champagne. Or wine. She’s never really had any alcoholic beverages before, aside from the tiny sips her parents had jokingly offered to her as a kid. She makes a face at the bitter taste, but whips around, startled, as a small giggle sounds from behind her.

“Oh, sorry, did you hear me?” The girl smiles, and Jisoo can immediately tell that she had meant for her to. Her eyes glance over to the long, flowing locks of silky blonde hair cascading in waves of sunshine down her shimmering silver dress, and struggles to place a name. Jisoo was certain she was one of the ultra-rich kids, strutting around in crazy expensive high heels she would most definitely break her ankle in. She didn’t seem to belong to Jennie’s posse, by the vaguely disgusted way she kept glancing over at her, and was carrying a— “Is that a _guitar_?” Jisoo asks, taken aback.

“What? Oh. No, of course not.” The blonde girl wrinkles her nose. “Do you know how much my actual guitar costs?” She gives Jisoo a quick once-over, eyebrows inching higher as she appeared to scour her dress for hints of any labels worthy of recognition and come up with none. “Then again, you wouldn’t. Scholarship kid, right?” She doesn’t give Jisoo a chance to answer. “My guitar’s home, safely guarded by security measures you could only dream of, and _this_ \--is a designer backpack.” She twists around a little so that Jisoo can see the huge Saint Laurent logo emblazoned on the leather. She rolls her eyes, which the girl ignores.

“So, which of them are you? I know there’s only five of you, but I don’t know you guys. Correction: I don’t _want_ to know you guys. But since we’re here.” She looks at her, eyes prompting her for an answer.

Jisoo purses her lip before replying tartly, “Jisoo Kim.”

“Oh.” She tilts her head. “Well, not oh. The only one I remember hearing about is the one who stole the one-of-a-kind Louis Vuitton handbag from Lisa and got expelled with a permanent record that made it impossible for her to get into any decent public school, let alone any private institute. She got what she deserved, if you ask me. The bag cost more than her life—and literally, seeing as her insurance was basically nothing. And you’re clearly not her.” She seems to bite back a sigh as she catches another glimpse at Jisoo’s outfit, which she looks at with an expression that closely resembles how a strict parent would look at a child’s disappointing report card. “I’d _let_ you steal one of my clothes if it meant I didn’t have to see you in that pathetic stretch of cheap fabric you probably think is a dress.”

Jisoo decides she’s had about enough of it when the blonde girl chirps out, “Oh, I’m Rosé,” extending a hand, which Jisoo reluctantly shakes. It’s only then that Jisoo realizes she has a light accent dusting her lilting, dulcet tone—Australian, maybe?—but refrains from asking about it, because at the rate this conversation was progressing, she’d only be further degraded by comments such as “I mean, it’s pretty evident you haven’t been to Australia, but where have you been? Surely you must’ve visited _someplace_ at _some_ point in your life. And domestic trips don’t count,” with a condescending sniff.

“So, Jisoo, what brings you here?” She pops out a tube of shiny lip gloss from her purse—also YSL, Jisoo notes—and starts applying it on her already-glistening lips. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“It’s not like you would’ve noticed,” Jisoo mutters, but Rosé’s too occupied with the Very Important Business of Making Sure Her Lips Are Perfect to notice. “I don’t know. Usually I curl up with Netflix and some pizza but I thought why not? And I can think of a million answers to that question now.” She finishes, huffing as she sees that Rosé’s barely paying her any attention.

“Don’t be silly.” She smiles dazzlingly, dropping her lip gloss back in and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I mean, it can’t be every day that you’re exposed to high—“ she fakes a cough, “—I mean, our society.”

“Which I am more than content with,” she retorts loudly. “Honestly, what do you gain out of extravagant parties like this? Aesthetic Instagram pictures? Popularity points?” She scoffs.

Rosé rolls her eyes. “No. Well, yes. But the main point is simply to dress up and have fun.” Her eyes widen. “Oh my God, wait, have you ever even had a boyfriend? Or, you know, girlfriend. We’re inclusive that way,” she says, gesturing over to the far end of the refreshments table where a pair of girls are shyly holding hands. “That’s Tiana and Yvonne. We love them.”

“Yes, we love your progressive ideals,” Jisoo says sarcastically. “But no.” Cue dramatic gasp. Cue mischievous glint in eyes.

“Do you know the quickest way to get to a Nobody to a Somebody here?” Rosé asks, feigning nonchalance despite the evil glimmer in her chocolate eyes.

“I don’t know, steal a one-of-a-kind backpack?”

“It was a _handbag_ ,” Rosé says impatiently, as if she can’t possibly believe Jisoo’s confusing the two. “And no. Dating a Somebody.”

“Wow. My mind is blown.” Jisoo says in a monotone. “What an original idea you have there, Miss Rosé.”

“I’m serious. Look, I know your type. I have a stepsister who used to be broke as fuck—“ even swear words sound melodic in her lullaby of a voice, Jisoo thinks scathingly,“—before my idiotic dad decided her mom was hot enough to be his next trophy wife. She pretends to be against all the new money she has now—you should hear her, she basically preaches communism—but I checked the two-faced bastard’s bank account the other day and she spent more than her mother and me combined this month. On _Pokémon figures_.” She laughs humorlessly, gaze fixing on Jisoo. “My point is, don’t try denying that you want money, or power, or a name in our school and in our world, because it’s not quirky, it’s just dumb. I say you recognize that desire and fight for it, because that’s what got us here in the first place.” The right corner of her lips twist up in a crooked smile—it’s really more of a smirk—but it’s the most genuine one Jisoo has seen all night. “I know for a fact that that’s what got Jennie Kim her throne. So I suggest you start looking there.” She sets down her bubbling orange drink on the counter and disappears into the crowd, fluttering her fingers in a parting wave.

Jisoo, oddly enough, feels like she’s just met her fairy godmother. A honey-blonde, oh-so-sardonic, guitar-playing fairy godmother.

# ♔

# 

“Can you show me your invitation?”

Jisoo blinks, her mouth full of cold turkey and cheese. She hastily swallows it, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin, and says, “I’m sorry?”

“No, you’re not, because you don’t know what you did wrong.” A girl with hot pink highlights snaps, without looking up from her phone, on which she’s furiously typing something. Jisoo knits her eyebrows, confused.

“Last Friday, you showed up to a party where you weren’t invited.” Jisoo turns to meet Jennie’s eyes, dark and cold, with a hint of detached amusement, as she stands over her in all her intimidating glory. “No one does that.”

“Wh— but I was— I got an invitation,” Jisoo stammers, pulling out her backpack and rummaging frantically through it, even though she knows the card isn’t in there.

“Who was in charge of sending out the invitations this time, Lisa?” Jennie asks sweetly, her gaze still fixed on Jisoo.

Pink Girl, who Jisoo assumes is Lisa, blows a huge bubble with the gum she’s chewing and hums, tapping her shoe against the floor. “I don’t know, Emily, maybe?”

Jennie’s lip curls in distaste. “Ah. That explains the explosion of fascinating flora and fauna on them. It looked like Mother Nature barfed on the pages.” Her eyes flicker over to a table over on the right, where girls visibly flinch and start huddling up nervously when they see her. She scoffs. “Oh, please. What did I ever do them?”

“You ripped Vivianne’s skirt because it clashed with the tank you had on, remember?” Lisa says, shaking her head then turning her attention back to her phone. Flicking through her texts, she suddenly groans, clicking it off and shoving it into her clutch. “Oh, goodie. Jungkook’s returning from that hockey trip tonight.”

“Oh?” Jennie says, checking her phone for any new messages. “Tell him to come over to my place when he gets back here.”

“Yeah, as if my parents are going to let him spend the night with his girlfriend.” Lisa rolls her eyes, blowing at her bangs.

"No one said anything about 'spending the night'," Jennie retorts, glaring.

Lisa snorts-- _yeah, yeah_ \--but cocks her head when her eyes meet Jisoo’s. “Jen, I _think_ we were talking to this girl.”

Jisoo kind of wants to punch them both in the face.

“What? Oh.” Jennie leans over, her hands curling around the edge of the table. Her gold heart pendant with a bold crack down the middle sways dangerously close to Jisoo’s face. “Look, we get it. You wanted to come to one of our parties! And as this is a first-time offense, we’re willing to let it go—“ Jisoo barely stops herself from snorting—who were they, government officials?, “— _if_ you do us a small favor.”

“Um.” Jisoo’s torn between laughing and cowering in fear. She opts for fixing an anxious smile on her face. “What is it?”

“Lisa, remember how I told you that Jungkook’s been acting distant?” Lisa rolls her eyes but nods. “So, uh—Jisoo, was it?” She pronounces it like Juh _soo_ , with an emphasis on the second syllable, which is the first time Jisoo’s heard it that way, with the exception of an annoying Starbucks employee. Her name in that silky-smooth, poison-tinged voice sounds… unnerving. She gulps down the correction rising in her throat and forces out a _yeah_.

Jennie smiles. “I need you to try to seduce him.”

She nearly chokes on her own spit, and Jennie raises her eyebrows at her less-than-pleased reaction. “I uh… just… what exactly do you mean?”

She waves a hand in the air, shrugging. “I don’t know, flirt with him, get to know him—he claims to be a sucker for _emotional connections_ \--“ she snorts, “—whatever it takes. For a week—or longer, if you turn out not be his type. If he cheats on me with you, it’s over between us. It's the perfect excuse.” Jisoo feels vaguely panicked, the _vaguely_ being only because she hasn’t fully grasped the situation yet. “Sorry, Lisa.” Jennie says airily. "We know you love your brother."

Lisa pretends to gag. " _Step_ brother." She replies. "Please, crush his heart into pieces and throw them in the dumpster to crash and burn. If he even has one, that is.”

“I’m sorry, guys, uh—could you be a little more specific?” Jisoo doesn’t really need to ask, she’s gotten all the details she needs, but she's grasping for straws, hoping for a loophole to pop up and rescue her from this less-than-admirable situation.

“Not really,” Jennie says. “Oh, but you don’t have to sleep with him or anything. Like, holding hands or an attempted kiss counts, too.”

Jisoo pales. “And there’s nothing else I can do?”

Jennie tilts her head, her long, rippling black hair falling to one side of her face. She has a curious expression on her face, a mixture of pity and scorn and humor, and she scrunches her nose up in a way Jisoo is more than certain all the guys think is ridiculously adorable. (Not that she herself thinks that. Of course not.) “Unless you’d like to receive the punishment for attending a party you weren’t invited to?”

Jisoo bites her lip. “No.”

“Good. Then we have a deal here.” She turns on her heel and makes her way down the aisle without a goodbye, leaving Lisa to pull a faux-sympathetic face to a shell-shocked Jisoo who's wondering what the freaking _fuck_ just happened.

“Don’t worry. You’re _totally_ my brother’s type.” She winks cheekily, watching Jisoo’s mouth drop open in protest, and leaves before she can say another word, her bright pink locks of hair fluttering in the wind like dancing cherry blossoms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story is based off of lorde's _pure heroine_ , hence the chapter titles being song lyrics from the album, and also kind of inspired by gossip girl (but not similar plot-wise... I think?)! enjoyy <3


	2. you drape your wrists over the steering wheel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo makes a couple of bad choices and learns about Jennie's frightening dental habits as a toddler.

She was going to talk to him.

Did she know who this Jungkook guy was? No. Did she know what he liked? Nope. Did she think she had a shot with him, considering the fact that he was currently dating Jennie? Of course not. She was so far under his radar that she may as well be on the same level as the teachers, who had no power whatsoever at Serenity, always blubbering hasty apologies over a coffee accidentally spilled onto a student’s crisp white shirt. Or maybe even lower than that. At least the students paid attention to them when exams rolled around, or when they needed recommendation letters to continue their families’ legacies as Ivy League alums and lawyers, doctors, and CEOs of wildly successful corporations.

Jisoo found it strange that Jennie just expected her to immediately know who Jungkook was, as if she believed that her role as his girlfriend was enough to catapult him onto the pinnacle of the social ladder. She was pretty certain she’d heard the name being tossed around by giggling girls in exchanges she’d held no interest in, but the not-so-sad truth was that she had a hard time telling jocks apart. Tall, cute, loud, and definitely assholes. What else was there to observe?

She may be a social outcast, but—or perhaps because of it—she knew how to stalk people online, and she did it exceptionally well. After sifting through pages and pages on social media and looking through profiles she kept wondering if she’d already seen, she discovered a fairly old picture on Jennie’s Instagram with two boys, arms slung around her, roaring with laughter as she rolled her eyes affectionately, a small smile playing on her curved, cherry-red lips. She pressed the photo, revealing the tags, and clicked the one near the boy she thought was marginally better-looking, and was taken to a private account, much to her disappointment. The name consisted of a single bear emoji, which seemed rather cryptic for a teenage boy, but the profile picture showed the same two boys, this time pulling faces at the camera in a disastrous attempt at a funny selfie. Great, she still didn’t know which one it was. What were they, Siamese twins?

She went back and clicked the other tag hopefully, only to be told that the account didn’t exist. She sighed and bit her lip. Contacting the first guy was a bit of a gamble, and she guessed she could get more hints if she approached Jennie, Lisa, or even Rosé, but it was the _approaching_ part that she desperately wanted to avoid, not to mention the asking-for-help part that would surely ensue—that is, if they didn’t scoff in her face (Jennie wouldn’t even scoff; she’d smirk in that irritating as _hell_ way of hers) and tell her to figure it out herself. She wanted to get this done and out of the way as soon as possible, and so she took a deep breath and clicked follow. After all, if it wasn’t him, she could just blow up her own account and pretend it never happened! It wasn’t like she posted anything—or had any followers, with the exception of her parents. (Yes, her parents.)

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself down, beginning to think this whole situation was ridiculous, when her phone chimed. She snatched it off her desk and once she saw that her request had been accepted, set it back down, relieved but nervous. She bit her lip and quickly typed out a message before she chickened out.

_Hi, I’m Jisoo. I go to your school?_

She waited for a few moments in which the guy didn’t reply, then glanced back at her Biology homework, sprawled out on her desk in a way that was far from inviting. She’d get it done before tomorrow, she promised herself, and flopped down on her bed, wondering how she’d gotten herself into such a stupid predicament, before crumbling to the inevitable and fretting over what she should’ve sent instead—maybe just a simple _hey_ would’ve been cooler, or on the opposite end of the spectrum, maybe something slightly more explanatory would’ve suited her purpose better, since it’d have actually given him a valid reason to respond. He probably got texts like that every single day from at least half a dozen girls!

Gosh, if anyone could hear her thoughts right now, she’d die of embarrassment. It was like she’d succumbed to her classmates’ selfish, superficial ideals and wasn’t even trying to hide it—but it was _not_ like that, she told herself sternly. She wanted nothing to do with Jennie’s wedge sandals and Lisa’s sparkly phone and Rosé’s heavily guarded guitar, which was _precisely_ why she was sending DMs to guys she didn’t even know.

The excuse sounded lame to even her own ears, and she groaned and draped her arm over her eyes, shielding them from the sun pouring in from the window and drenching her in sticky heat. She reached for her pillow with her free arm and was about to yank it closer when her phone dinged again. She scrambled for it, heart pounding.

_Hey_  
_You seem pretty cute_  
_Wanna meet after school on Friday?_

One follow request and four direct messages in, and she hated this guy already.

# ♔

“My plan actually kind of worked!” is the first sentence this Jungkook guy first says to Jisoo upon meeting her, much to her confusion. Then he proceeds to envelop her in a one-armed hug, the 'one-armed' part due to the fact that he’s clutching a dirty, wet Frisbee in one hand and the 'hug' part due to the even more depressing fact that he clearly doesn’t know what ‘personal space’ and ‘valuing one’s privacy’ means—or chooses to blatantly ignore them. Jisoo grimaces, having mentally prepared herself with a string of _he’s going to suck, but he can’t suck as badly as Jennie and her so-called punishment_ and _if he annoys you, just imagine feeding him to the pack of vicious dogs Mrs. Park owns next door, arms flailing and shrieking madly_ while getting ready. (Her mind is kind of in a dark place at the moment.) She stumbles out of his grip in a daze, noticing how he smells exactly like the football field—grass, dirt, and excitement.

She’s about to ask what he meant by that when he speaks first. “So, you wanna go grab coffee or something?”

“Um, sure, yeah,” she mumbles.

Jungkook slings his backpack over his shoulder and throws his lime green Frisbee into the air, catching it on the way down and shooting a glance back at the crowds of admiring girls. Jisoo had seriously considered setting up an eye roll count after her encounter with the three most conceited and vain girls ever yesterday, and the idea comes rushing back to her, and she quietly snorts. She tries hard not to look at the Frisbee—I mean, a _Frisbee_? What the actual _heck_?—for the fear that she’ll double up into hysterics and damage Jungkook’s fragile ego. After all, she’d already worked up a rough draft of compliments to pay him whenever he felt like he could be doing a lot better than hanging out with someone like her. And, you know, to butter him up before telling him that no, she wasn’t interested in him, no, seriously, dude, I couldn’t care less about you, I’m only here because I have no desire to be squashed like a fly by Jennie’s six-inch heels, let me tell you the story because it's really funny and not totally pathetic.

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?” He asks, gesturing for her to get in the passenger’s seat when they reach his car, all sleek blacks and polished metal. She slides in tentatively, making sure her sneakers aren’t leaving dusty prints on its crystal-clear surfaces.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I don’t really hang out with—uh—your crowd.” She hopes he doesn’t realize right away that it’s not I don’t, it’s I _can’t_.

“So why have you suddenly decided to grace us with your magnificent presence?” He asks playfully, revving the engine and slowly backing out of the parking lot.

She rolls her eyes. (One.) “It didn’t quite happen like that. See, I got this invitation to a party that Jennie Kim was hosting, and went, half because my parents were all for me to go, telling me to have fun and live my youth to the fullest, and half because I’d just finished binging this awesome show on Netflix and was feeling empty and vulnerable and overly sentimental.” She glances over at him, expecting him to have tuned out, but he’s listening closely, nodding along with a glint in his eyes she swears she knows from somewhere. “So, you know—“ she waves her hands, “—I went. Turns out, I wasn’t supposed to have! And now I’m uh—here,” she trails off lamely, still not set on whether she should tell him _why_ she was here.

“Ah.” He cruises down the road smoothly, and her eyes trail down to the expensive gold watch clasped on his wrist. “It’s a family heirloom,” he says, noticing her gaze, and she flushes—then wonders why she did. (She convinces herself it’s the face. She didn’t _like_ guys for their apperances, but she knew how to appreciate a well-made face when she saw one, cough cough Jungkook. Or at least her cardiovascular system did.) He clears his throat. “So, uh, speaking hypothetically, of course… where’s the best place to have difficult conversations around here?”

Jisoo thinks for a minute. “The Coffee Pot, just a couple blocks away. No one’s ever there. Well, this dude magically appears when you enter the place and takes your order in solemn silence—he’s the most socially awkward human being ever, you’ll know what I mean when you see him—then disappears back behind the curtains. You sit down and chat for a couple minutes, and when you look back over at the counter, there’s your coffee, warm and scrumptious.” She grins. “So, you know, if you wanted to tell me I’m actually your half-sister and that my real mother has been murdered by a serial killer who boils his victims after committing the crime, and that she was a famous actress who left us both enormous inheritances and a tropical fish tank filled with endangered species, or something like that, that’s the place.”

He raises his eyebrows, amused. “Awesome.”

By the time they get there, the sun has drifted behind the clouds and the weather’s gotten noticeably chilly, and Jisoo’s glad she brought her own sweatshirt instead of taking one of Jungkook’s, a gesture she’s not sure she can accept without bursting into laughter simply because of its hilariously cliché nature. She slips it on and gets out, leading Jungkook into the café.

Sure enough, the gawky, gangly employee is there to welcome them, write down their orders on a yellow notepad that Jisoo isn’t entirely sure was originally yellow, and gives them both a strange bow before retreating.

“I told you so,” she whispers to Jungkook as they make their way down the narrow rows and settle on a table located near the windows, the chairs squeaking as they’re pulled back.

“You’re mean,” he replies teasingly, but laughs.

“So what’s the difficult conversation you mentioned earlier?”

He pretends to be perplexed. “Who said I was going to have it with you?” She rolls her eyes (two). He sighs. “Okay, fine, but did you order your coffee hot or cold?”

She squints at him. “Why would you need to know that?”

“Two words: girls are mean.” He frowns. “That’s three. Ah well.”

“Someone… poured their coffee over you?” She guesses, and by his reaction, she’s not wrong.

“Well, it was actually hot cocoa.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t know hot cocoa type of girls had that in them.”

Jisoo shrugs. “Maybe you did something spectacular shitty to her.”

He winces. “Yeah… I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Now you’re making me question your morality.” She jokes, getting up to bring the tray when she notices their drinks are out. She passes the iced americano to him, and smirks as an idea hits her. She holds her steaming hot mug up to Jungkook’s face with a fake threatening leer, and laughs as he shudders.

“So.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “I promise not to pour this over you. Now can you tell me?”

“Yeah, um…” He looks up, locking his eyes with hers. “The thing is. Er. I’m not Jungkook.”

“Damn it! I should've known.” She tilts her head. “Wait, but then why are you on this date-that-I’d-rather-not-call-a-date with me?”

“I’m offended to hear the name you just gave our rendezvous,” he replies, smiling, "But I guess I should start from the beginning.”

She sets down her mug, wrapping her hands around it for extra warmth (Jungkook—well, fake-Jungkook—was the weird one here, ordering cold drinks in the middle of September. Fall in New England was not a picnic). “Okay, let’s hear it.”

He sighs and leans back in his chair. “It all started seventeen years ago.” Jisoo gives him a strange look, wondering where this was headed. “My parents had always wanted a baby boy. A cute, sweet, angelic little boy my dad could play sports with and my mom could read bedtime stories and sing gracious lullabies to.”

“This is already starting to sound boring, not to mention vaguely sexist,” she notes.

“No, but this is essential to the tale, because _someone_ I know tells it completely differently and I need to make sure you know the _truth_.” He says, lowering his voice to a stage whisper. Jisoo rolls her eyes for the third time that day. “And they got what they wanted!” He points at himself, batting his eyelashes at her when she responds with a _meh_. “But they also got a girl. An annoying, loud, bratty little creature who stole all the poor boy’s toys and bit him routinely—twice a day, I have the marks on my arm to prove it. I cried every day and my parents were too scared she'd bite them too to tell her off properly. No, seriously—” Jisoo’s starting to consider pulling out her phone to search for _closest hospitals for mentally troubled teens with childhood traumas_ , as she reaches out a hand to stop him as he rolls up his sleeves. He pouts but continues. “And so, you know, seventeen years and two months passed, and the two kids were all grown up. The boy was as handsome and well-mannered as he ever was, and the girl had also grown up exactly the same, meaning she was still evil and cruel and conniving. The boy is, as you’ve probably figured out from my extremely accurate descriptions, me, and the girl is—“ he sighs, a long, tortured one, “—Jennie.”

Jisoo’s jaw drops. “But then you’re—“

He spreads his arms out. “The one and only.”

“But why did you—“

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot that part.” Jisoo’s about to say _thanks for the interruptions, I truly am enjoying them_ —when she suddenly notices something different in his eyes. He rubs his neck, gaze flickering down in a brief moment of vulnerability, and gives her a taut smile. “For reasons I’m not willing to disclose at the moment, she has once again proven herself as a complete…”

“Bitch?” She suggests.

“Yup.” He exhales. “And I’m sorry for the trouble you had to go through, really.”

“Back up. Me? What do I have to do with any of this?”

“Uh, well, I learned a thing or two growing up with her. Number one, never go into a battle without a detailed-ass plan. Number two, just because your teeth are not fully developed yet does not mean they don’t hurt when sunk into human flesh.” He winces at the memory. “But drawing on from the first bit, I created a pretty good plan, if I say so myself. You see, there’s nothing Jennie hates more than pretty girls who are smart and not utterly terrified of her. So—“ he reaches into his backpack, pulling out a handful of—she gasps and glares at him.

"You sent me the invitation."

He nods, not even bothering to appear sheepish. “Emily has had a thing for me, since, like—“

“You had red teeth marks running up and down your arms?”

“Exactly, and will you please stop bringing that up, it’s giving me flashbacks and they are not pleasant.” She snorts. “So, my plan was perfect. You got an invitation and went—the end of your Netflix binge session was a lucky coincidence—and she would be furious. She’d likely demand something, you’d say no, and girls would be awed by your courage to stand up to her and start flocking over to you, and _you_ ‘d become the ‘queen’ of Serenity instead, and she’d be left alone and miserable.”

Jisoo nods slowly, wondering if it’s too late to pull out Google Maps to perform that search.

“But then you said yes. I’d overestimated your ability to stand up for justice.” He says dramatically, sinking deeper into his chair.

She groans. “Now you’re making me feel bad.”

“Nah, no worries, it just means you’re normal. No one says no to her. Ever.”

"Yeah, I kind of figured that out when everyone stopped wearing white jeans after she declared them to be, what was it? Yeah, 'not her style'." Taehyung snorts.

They sit there like that for a moment, playing with their straws. Finally, Jisoo speaks up.

“Well. I could always say no.”

“ _Really._ ” He says doubtfully, stretching the word out, and she leans over and punches his shoulder.

“Yes! Now that I know your motives, I could go up to her tomorrow at school and tell her that I wasn’t doing it. _And_ that I’m not committed to receiving her punishment at all, since she has no authority to enforce it.”

He gives her an impressed look before holding up a hand. “Wait, but tomorrow’s a Saturday.”

She scowls at him. “Monday, then."

"Monday it is."

She bites her lip, hesitating. “Hey, you can’t—you’re not going to tell me why you reached the conclusion that she was, you know, a b-word, right?”

He takes in a sharp breath. “Yeah. Not now, at least.”

“And you can assure me it’s not because of some stupid argument you had five years ago?”

He nods stiffly, pursing his lips tightly as if he was trying to prevent dangerous secrets from spilling out and flying away.

“Okay, then.” She chooses not to push him on the subject, and glances down at her nearly empty mug, forcing herself to ignore the questions shooting into her head. “Shall we get going?”

He picks up his bag and after returning the tray to the counter, they walk out the door, her holding the door open for him so that he doesn’t start boasting about how much of a gentleman he is.

“I don’t need you to drive me home, it’s only a short walk from here.” She holds out a hand. “So. I’ll keep you updated after my crazy act of rebellion on Monday.”

The last of the heavy clouds lingering in his chocolate-coated eyes dissipates, and he grins, clasping her hand and giving it a firm shake. “Of course. And I’ll make sure to get my lovely twin sister on her best behavior so that she won’t completely lose her temper on you.”

“Charming.” She cocks her head. “Does that mean she won’t lunge and try to bite off any of my body parts, right? ‘Cause I kind of don’t know what I’d do if chunks of my flesh went missing. Like, do I book a doctor's appointment and bring the—"

He slaps a hand to his forehead. “I _told_ you not to—“

“I’m kidding!” She puts on a serious expression. “Wait, but she wouldn’t actually do that, right?”

He shrugs. “I wouldn’t give her any ideas.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Bye, Taehyung.”

“G’bye, Jisoo.”

She watches as he gets into his car and yells out another loud ‘bye’ before driving off in a deafening roar of smoke.

On her way home, she tries to be happy about making a new friend. After all, her parents would be more than delighted, especially after learning that the friend was the heir to a multimillion-dollar company.

But the truth is, she's worried. She's worried about what Jennie can do if she can break Taehyung, who she's almost certain has a plethora of cracked pieces resting below his easy smile and teasing tone. She's worried about what Jennie can do simply because she refuses to carry out a favor, because both of them know, plain as day, that she's got everyone and everything wrapped around her perfect pinky finger. She's worried about what she can do to her, and what lengths she'd go to in order to destroy her once she chooses to defy her.

And she's worried that she's starting to sound like a trembling princess in a fairy tale, brandishing a much-too-heavy sword in wobbling hands and riding on a talking white horse that tells too many corny dad jokes, off on her quest to fight and defeat the menacing villain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song title's from 400 lux, and dynamite's kind of stuck in my head right now XD


	3. a hundred jewels between teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennie's scary, Lisa's intimidating, Rosé's bossy, and Taehyung's a terrible liar. (And Jisoo? She's a sucker for gummy worms, especially if they're in bright colors. Who could resist such an adorable, wiggling, half-red, half-yellow creature?)

“Hmm?”

Jennie turns around, a polite smile gracing her lips and holding a single red strawberry between her forefinger and thumb. Her expression morphs into a carefully crafted one of confusion, her head tilting slightly and her eyes squinted.

“I, uh—“ Jisoo clears her throat, wiping her sweaty palms on the back of her jeans. “Can I talk to you?”

“What do you think you’re doing right now?” Lisa interrupts, making a face. Jisoo notices that her pink highlights have been replaced with purple ones, a sprinkle of crystal butterfly pins perched along a thin braid she’s created, which swings near her face like a dainty pendulum.

“I mean in private,” Jisoo says, and instantly regrets it. The girls surrounding them start twittering nervously, a muffled buzz of excitement rising, until Lisa shoots them an irritated glare and the sound swiftly dies down. Jennie takes a small bite out of her strawberry, eyes roving over the flock of girls eyeing her with a mix of trepidation and respect, then picking up her leather tote and standing up.

“Sure,” she replies sweetly, her tone not matching the masked animosity hidden in her eyes. “Shall we?” She pops the rest of the strawberry in her mouth, leading the way for Jisoo to follow.

They’ve barely walked ten steps when Jennie comes to an abrupt stop, whipping around and crossing her arms. She seems to turn up the hostility on display, running a hand through her jet black hair and tilting her head. Jisoo gulps, not wanting to appear intimidated, but incredibly so.

“Look, I know I said I’d do that whole—seducing thing,” Jisoo says quickly, feeling like a child as her cheeks heat up at the word, “But I’ve kind of thought it over during the weekend, and I don’t think that’ll be right.” Jennie nods slowly, twirling the end of her ponytail and not seeming surprised at all. “I mean, if you want to break up with him, you don’t need an excuse, right? You could just tell him that—“

“I’m sorry,” Jennie holds up a hand, sounding thoroughly amused. “Are you trying to give me _relationship advice_?”

Jisoo’s eyes widen, having realized her mistake a second too late. “Oh, no, of course not—“

“Look.” She sighs, leaning against the wall and pursing her lips. “I don’t care if you want to receive the punishment instead, I have an entire pack of girls who are just a tad too willing to try to get into my boyfriend’s pants. But to think that you’d even dream of lecturing me, when you’ve clearly never been in a relationship—” (Was it really _that obvious_? What did a person with an ex and some experience look like _anyway_?) “—is so goddamn hilarious.” She finishes, a satisfied smirk playing on her coral lips. “So, you know, do go on. I’m ever so curious to know what you think I should be doing.”

Jisoo darts a surreptitious glance around her, feeling like screaming and running away when she sees no one’s around. She gives a nervous laugh, and the twisted corner of Jennie’s mouth twitches in response. “No, you’re right. That wasn’t my place.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “It wasn’t. But seriously, I’m dying to know! Please tell me more.” She takes a step forward, canting her head and pulling puppy-dog eyes. Her faux pout reminds Jisoo of lavish, luxurious cats, all snow-white fur and piercing blue eyes. “ _Please_?” Jisoo catches a strong whiff of French vanilla and dried roses and stumbles back, swallowing hard.

“I really didn’t mean to,” she whispers, feeling like a cornered deer in headlights.

Jennie locks eyes with her, holding her gaze for a fleeting few moments before tightening her grip on her bag and straightening up. “Who cares what you meant to do?” She glances behind Jisoo’s back, and Jisoo hears a frightened clapping of footsteps rushing away from them, repelled by a single, swift look from Jennie. “It’s what you did that matters. But I know you won’t do it again,” she says, her eyes daring. “So. Come meet me after school?”

“Wha—oh.” Jisoo realizes she’s talking about the punishment, not some… date. (Then again, a date with her sounded like punishment enough, she told herself.) “Look, I don’t think—“

“Clearly,” she mutters.

“—that I should be held responsible for going to that party.”

"Hmm?”

“Look, here’s my invitation—“ Jisoo reached into her bag and pulled it out, showing it to Jennie and awkwardly retracting her hand when she barely even glanced at it, instead choosing to stare at her openly. “And it even has my name on it. How can you say I didn’t invite you when it says it here in black and white?”

“It’s actually purple and mint, that was the color scheme,” Jennie snaps, before taking in a deep breath, which, rather than calming her down, seems to add fuel to the fire burning her harsh tone. “And I can say that because it was _my_ party, meaning _I_ chose the guest list, and I most certainly do _not_ remember mentioning to any of my party planners to throw in an annoying, obnoxious, dumb little brat in it.” She glares at her, the black lightning bolts hanging from her earlobes swaying angrily.

Jisoo, oddly enough, feels bolstered by her sudden outburst, and she glowers back at her, the biting words tumbling out of her before she knows it. “No, you’re right. Of course you don't remember that, because you didn’t _invite_ her, you _are_ her.”

Jennie’s eyes widen before narrowing, the venom laced into her demeanor sharpening and solidifying. “Let me spell it out for you so that you can get it into your dense head, sweetheart.” She smiles, her eyes dark and deadly. “I’m not annoying, because _annoying_ is what people of a higher class use to describe those _beneath_ their level—namely, you.” She takes a step forward, her malicious confidence building with each syllable she uttered, clear and soft. “I’m not obnoxious, because _obnoxious_ is what people equipped with a greater set of skills use to label those noticeably _inferior_ to them—again, you.” She takes another step, raking her flashing eyes slowly over Jisoo’s face, starting from her caramel-coated eyes and landing on her heart-shaped lips. “I'm not dumb, because, well, you simply don't get where I am now by being dumb.“ She takes the final step forward, her nose nearly brushing against Jisoo’s and a faint blush of satisfaction painted on her porcelain skin. “And who knows? I may be a little brat at five foot four and with millions of dollars pouring into my bank account from my daddy’s earnings—but here, sadly, we don’t call people like me little brats."

She reaches out a hand and gently brushes a stray strand of hair away from Jisoo’s face. "We call them queens."

She rounds the corner, keeping her gaze locked with Jisoo's until the very last second and leaving Jisoo biting the inside of her cheek, hard.

# ♔

“You fucked up.”

Jisoo groans and collapses onto the bench next to Taehyung, who’s chewing on the last of his cheeseburger.

“Yes, Taehyung, as a matter of fact, I did.”

“This time, no expectations were crushed.” He replies, nibbling on a french fry and passing her one.

“Ugh, did you really know I was going to fail?”

“I know my sister, and I don’t know you—all that well, at least—but the first part is enough to predict the outcome of any encounter with her.” He shrugs. “Did you at least get her minions to see that she wasn’t a holy deity you’d get struck down by lightning if you defied?”

Jisoo slaps a hand to her forehead. “Oh my God, I completely forgot about that! I had the conversation in private, dammit.”

Taehyung shakes his head, appearing not even the least bit disappointed, and offers her another french fry, a sympathetic expression on his face. “She must’ve shaken you up pretty bad, huh?”

“It wasn’t even that I was that frightened by her, it was like she’d frozen my vocal cords! I have no idea why I couldn't say anything back.” She munches sadly before holding out a hand. “French fry?”

“I’ll start charging you if you eat any more,” he warns, but gives her another one, which Jisoo accepts gratefully.

“But I am pretty sure I don’t have to do her dirty work anymore, nor do I have to be punished!” She says happily, relieved. “See, I said no to both, and she gave a whole ass speech about how she was the queen or something—“ _Typical_ , Taehyung snorts, “—but that was it.”

Taehyung holds up a hand. “Wait, just so we’re on the same page, what favor did she want you to do?”

“Oh, seduce this guy named Jungkook,” she says casually, waving her hand in the air and silently contemplating whether or not Taehyung would _really_ charge her if she asked for another french fry—but she stops, and not because she thinks he actually would.

At the mention of the name, his entire body seems to tighten, from the taut pull of his lips to the sudden clench of his fist, and he shuts off, staring hard at a spot between his shoes. After a few confusing seconds, Jisoo gives him a tentative tap on the shoulder, and he seems to turn back on, giving a nervous laugh and brushing his bangs out of his forehead.

“And uh—may I ask why?” His voice is wobbly, unsure.

“She wanted to break up with him, but needed an excuse.” She shrugs, trying her best to appear oblivious to the abrupt change in his behavior. “I’d make him like me and she’d catch us on the act—you know, holding hands, out on a secret date—and use that.”

“See? Vile,” Taehyung remarks, but there’s still a hint of rough bitterness edging along his tone. “Absolutely vile.”

“Do you uh…” Jisoo fidgets with the hem of her shirt, debating whether or not she should ask him, until her curiosity gets the best of her. “Do you know him?”

“Jungkook?” She nods. “Uh—we used to play for the same baseball team in middle school, but other than that, no, not really, we barely talk,” he replies. His gaze lands on the half-empty pack of fries sitting on his lap, and hands it over to Jisoo. “I’m full, you can have it.”

“Um, okay.” Jisoo is seriously beginning to speculate whether there are certain genetics that make people better at lying, and if so, secretly marvels at how completely and wholly they had been transferred to Jennie and entirely lost on Taehyung. She picks up a fry, but casting another anxious look at her sort-of friend, decides her appetite is suddenly gone too, throwing it in the trash (she’d already had two and a half chocolate chip granola bars anyway).

“You alright?” She asks hesitantly, and he nods, and she wonders how a nod can look so much like a shake of the head.

“I’m going to, uh, go get some homework before class in the library. See you later?” He picks his bag up from the bench and leaves before she can even answer, giving her a quick wave and obviously heading towards the parking lots, no doubt to ditch afternoon classes, homework be damned. She waves a second after he’s gone, and blinks as a flash of blonde hair appears in her sight, nearly crashing into her.

“Oh, hey, it’s you,” Rosé says, sounding less than excited, as she pats down the invisible wrinkles on her cashmere sweater after casting her a look of vague recognition.

“Oh, hey, it’s you,” Jisoo mimics, attempting to sound even less interested than she had and failing.

Rosé rolls her eyes, pulling out her phone from her back pocket to check the time. “Shit, I still have 15 more minutes before my mom arrives to take me shopping. Kill time with me? Perfect,” she says, before clamping a hand on Jisoo’s arm and dragging her away, determinedly marching forwards in her kitten heels while Jisoo struggles to keep up with her, nearly tripping and twisting her ankle.

She finally stops when they reach a sleek limousine in a corner of the lot Jisoo had never noticed before, surrounded by vintage sports cars and electric vehicle charging stations. Jisoo shudders at the thought of accidentally bumping into one of these cars and leaving the teeniest scratch on the glossy paint, as Rosé leans over and raps the glass of the driver’s seat window, her grip on Jisoo remaining firm.

The window rolls down and a cheerful old man with graying hair and Ray Ban aviator sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose pokes his head out from behind a copy of _Motor Trend_ , which Jisoo assumes is a car magazine.

Rosé waves. “Hey, John, do you have a glass of sparkling water in the fridge? Mom’s not coming for another 15 minutes and I could really use a drink. Oh—“ she looks at Jisoo. “You want something? We have water, sparkling and still, lemonade, green tea, coke, and uh—what else?”

“Miss Roseanne, you know we operate strictly along the policy, you name it, we have it.” He turns to Jisoo, his tone friendly and welcoming. “So what’s your order going to be, Miss?”

Jisoo glances behind her shoulder to make sure that he's talking to her, which Rosé rolls her eyes at. “Oh, uh—I’ll have the lemonade, thanks.”

“Iced or warm?”

Jisoo tries to mask her shock— _who drank lemonade warm?_ —and, concerned about the beverage choices of rich people, answers, “Er... Iced.”

Rosé and the driver both burst into laughter, and Jisoo sighs, reluctantly admitting that she'd been a smidge naive. “Yes, of course, I should’ve realized.”

“Ah, no hard feelings,” John says, reaching into a mini fridge to his right and handing out both their drinks, fresh and cold. “It’s an old trick Miss Roseanne and I like to play on first-time customers.”

“Ha-ha, yeah, it's hilarious,” Jisoo says sarcastically, taking a cautious sip of her lemonade.

“Your outfit’s looking much worse than on the day of the party,” Rosé remarks, tracing the rim of her bottle with her pinky. “If I’d known that was your I-actually-made-an-effort dress, I would’ve been a tad less harsh.”

“Too late for that,” Jisoo mutters.

“Oh my God, wait.” Rosé suddenly squeals delightedly, clapping her hands in joy. “Oh my God, this is _perfect_!”

Jisoo frowns. “What is?”

Rosé's practically jumping up and down, teeming with excitement. “Get in the car.” She commands, and the door slides open.

“What?” Jisoo asks suspiciously, starting to back away a bit—until Rosé, having already slid into her seat, calls out, “We have macarons imported from the best bakeries in Paris, not to mention a nearly complete selection of Ben and Jerry’s pints for, you know, people like you—complete with toppings ranging from truffle oil to—” she sniffs haughtily, like it was a great personal insult to her dignity, “—gummy worms in different colors, again for people like you.”

Jisoo gets in the car without another word.

But as they’re pulling out of the spot, Rosé scooping some fancy flower-shaped iced cubes and pouring them into her drink, Jisoo glances over to the car on her left, and her eyebrows instantly shoot up. Through the tinted windows, she sees Taehyung grudgingly accepting a cup of Dunkin’ Donuts iced coffee as a playful, doe-eyed boy kept nudging him with it, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes and a smile like a laugh on his lips. She looks away quickly, worried she’d get caught.

 _So that’s Jungkook_ , Jisoo thinks to herself as Rosé finishes her drink, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. She’s about to steal another glance at the pair of them when Rosé pinches her shoulder.

“So? Aren’t you going to get some ice cream? And stop staring out the window before I kick you out of the car.”

Jisoo sighs, taking another sip of her lemonade wishing she had some—any, really—self-restraint when it came to dessert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> going out to get a hazelnut iced latte from dunkin donuts was the highlight of my day honestly.. and who else is so ready for the selpink collab!!


	4. and we're dancing in a world alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosé, her mom, and Jisoo help the economy, and Jisoo decides that she hates plaid skirts. (But not apple pie, or apple crumble cake, or any apple-flavored dessert. They were just too damn good to resist.)

Seventeen and a half bites of stolen chocolate ice cream and four pieces of (also stolen) gummy worms later, Jisoo finally asks Rosé, “Why don’t you get some for yourself if you want it so much?”

Rosé stops chewing on her fourth (blue and green, Jisoo remembers with startling clarity) gummy worm and turns back to her, her hands dropping to her laps and hastily swallowing what was left of the treat. “ _Whaaaat?_ I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I just saw you swallow,” Jisoo says, rolling her eyes and sticking her plastic spoon in her bowl before handing it over to her. “Not to mention that I saw you reach over you when you thought I wasn’t looking, pick up my spoon, and take huge scoops out of my baby right here.” She gestures at the bowl with her chin.

“No you did _not_ ,” she huffs, crossing her arms defiantly, but accepts the bowl. She sniffs. “But since you so generously asked.”

Jisoo snorts, leaning back in the seat and reveling in its comfort. She gazes out the window, at the waving trees and stretches of sky and strips of road sprawled out before them. She looks back at Rosé, who’s busy trying not to seem eager and slowly, deliberately taking tiny bites out of the bowl, and tries not to laugh. Rosé whips her head around, glaring at her like _what?_

“Nothing! It’s just uh—“ she grins, “Very _cute_ to see you act like you aren’t enjoying that combination of heavenly flavors and scents.”

Rosé sighs, admitting her defeat and shoveling a large bit of the oreo crumbles in her mouth. “Yes, it’s not as terrible as I expected,” she says, her voice muffled, and Jisoo fake-coughs. “Stop laughing!”

“Okay, okay,” she says, miming zipping her mouth, then suddenly frowns. “Wait, so could you at least tell me where we’re headed?”

“Oh.” She wrinkles her forehead. “I can’t, because I don’t know. See, my mom and I have this tradition called Monday Madness, where, you know, we go mad and buy a bunch of stuff and regret it the next day, when we talk about donating it to thrift stores but decide that we’ll wear the pieces eventually when our styles change, but never actually do.”

“That’s a uh... fancy tradition. Not to mention economically unsustainable.”

Rosé pulls a face. “I thought you were smart. Do you even pay attention in class? Keynesian theory of demand for money? Demand side economics?” She swallows another bite of ice cream, holding the pint up and waving it in Jisoo’s face. “I buy this ice cream, the ice cream company workers and manufactures all make money—more money than when I didn’t buy this ice cream! I end up simultaneously stimulating the economy,” she holds up a finger, like a patient teacher attempting to introduce a child to the concept of numbers, “and satisfying my appetite.” She finishes, smiling triumphantly at Jisoo, who simply raises her eyebrows.

“I don’t really think that’s what it means.”

“It is _exactly_ what it means,” she retorts. “Shut up or I’m going to throw you out of the car, and I don’t mean that figuratively.”

Jisoo sticks her tongue out at her. “Bossy.”

“Know-it-all.”

“Mean.”

“Nerd.”

“A nerd is a good thing to be!” Jisoo protests.

Rosé points her spoon at her. “And _that_ is precisely what a nerd would say. Congratulations, Jisoo Kim, you have absolutely and totally passed the NNA—National Nerd Assessment!”

Jisoo scoffs and is about to respond when the screen between the driver’s and passengers’ seats rolls down. John, glancing at them in the rear-view mirror with a twinkle in his eyes showing he’d been listening in on their conversation, announces, “We’re here!”

Rosé peeks out the window, squinting and tilting her head when she doesn’t seem to recognize the landscape. She turns to Jisoo, her face scrunched up in concentration. “Hey, I don’t know why I’m asking you, but do you know this place?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me either, because the answer is no.” Jisoo answers, having long since realized that Rosé’s blatant condescension was an expression of affection, rather than contempt. Well… a hidden affection. One that was hidden very, _very_ deep beneath her words.

They finally reach a halt in front of a sprawling glass building, the golden rays of sunlight bouncing off the panels in a shower of light. They climb out of the car after cleaning up the snacks strewn across the seats, Rosé claiming that she’d barely eaten anything and that Jisoo should be the one to take charge, but picking up and putting away most of the stuff anyway.

Rosé instantly latches her fingers around Jisoo’s wrist (she muttered, “Possessive much?” to which she replied, resolutely marching forwards, “This is a seven hour walk from your house, do you want some exercise? After all, you sure look like you need it, honey," and stubbornly refused to let go) and drags her into the entrance. They barely stop to admire the sparkling crystal stars dangling from the ceiling like huge, expensive Christmas ornaments.

“Rosie, darling!” Both Rosé and Jisoo turn to see a woman, dressed stylishly in a light peach two-piece suit and royal purple heels, making their way over to them. She’s pretty much a carbon copy of Rosé, Jisoo notes, all lanky limbs and gorgeous waves, except her hair is a much darker shade of brown. “Oh, and I see you’ve brought a friend!”

Jisoo smiles nervously. “Uh, hi, I’m sorry if I’m intruding, I heard that—“

“No, no! The more the merrier!” So apparently interrupting people ran in the family. But it wasn’t in a mean way; in fact, Rosé’s mother seemed like a genuinely sweet person. “So what’s your name? I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“Oh, I’m Jisoo, Jisoo Kim.” She says, extending a nervous hand that she shakes firmly.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you! Come, come, we have so much to look at,” she says happily, as she sweeps them along, chattering with her daughter about the _très chic_ fall collection at this shop and that boutique, leaving Jisoo to nod amusedly at their critical comments and follow along.

They reach their destination in a couple minutes, a classy, refined clothing store called _Cosmos_ with stick-thin mannequins striking a series dance moves on display. One has on a pink dress similar to the one Jennie had worn at the party and is showing it off in Marilyn Monroe’s signature pose, her hands on her thighs and leaning forwards temptingly.

“Really, they’ve got to stop making those outrageous figures,” Rosé’s mother says, pushing the door and gesturing them in. “It makes it ever so difficult to notice all the gorgeous, fine details of the items. I nearly missed the blue daisies along the hem of the black shirt I bought, remember that one, Rosie? I almost considered returning it!”

A professional-looking employee wearing a plaid lavender skirt with a white blouse appears in front of them, her name tag with _Veronica_ carved on it in neat black letters. “Hello, Mrs. Park, how can we help you today?”

“Oh, Veronica, hello. We’re just here to browse, as always,” she answers breezily. “Do you have any new pieces we can look through?”

“Of course, follow me right in.”

Rosé chases behind her mother excitedly, and Jisoo trails them, anxious. She clearly wasn’t going to be able to afford a single pair of socks in here—Rosé wouldn’t expect her to actually buy anything, right? Or even worse—she wasn’t thinking of paying for her stuff… right? She pauses, hesitant, when Rosé calls out, “Come on, lazypants. You’re going to miss all the good stuff—or worse, make _me_ miss them.”

Jisoo hurries in, and they’re ushered into a large, open space complete with polished marble floors and a glittering chandelier, the aroma of freshly picked flowers lingering in the air.

“—and please feel free to come to me if you need anything. I’ll be right outside,” Veronica says, giving them each a friendly smile before heading out, the door swishing closed.

“And so it begins,” Rosé’s mom says dramatically, before pouncing on the nearest rack, packed to the brim with shirts and tank tops and sweaters of dizzying colors.

Rosé wheels on Jisoo, a wicked grin forming on her lips. “So, do you have any idea why I chose to bring you here?”

“To hold your bags and coats while you shop?” Jisoo says sarcastically.

“Well, you can do that too, but not today. _Today_ , I am giving you a makeover.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no. You are _not_.“ Jisoo backs away slowly, shaking her head. “That is literally the most cliché thing ever.”

Rosé rolls her eyes. “Why do you care if it’s cliché or not?”

“Why do you want to give me a makeover?” Jisoo says in the same tone, panic creeping into her tone.

“Are you _really_ going to make me answer that question?” Rosé asks, looking pitifully at her with her lips pursed.

“Hey, my outfit is fine!”

“Yeah, maybe for staying in and celebrating the fact that you have no friends and no social life by stuffing your face with tomato pasta and aggressively flicking through your channels on TV, hoping to find something worth sticking with.”

“How did you know what I had for dinner last night?” Jisoo asks, surprised, to which Rosé raises her eyebrows and gives her a pained smile.

“Lucky guess. Look,” she sighs, “by coming to that party and getting lectured from Jennie Kim today—“

“Um, _what_?”

“News travels fast here, get used to it,” she says quickly, dismissing her look of shock with a wave, “My point is, you’ve entered our league! Well, if enter means clinging at the very bottom rung of it and frantically trying not to fall back down into the deep, dark, _horrifying_ abyss of anonymity.“ She shudders, then shrugs. “Either way, you’re here. And you will not ‘be here’ much longer if you go around looking like—" she twirls her fingers at her light green graphic tee and high-waisted jeans, "— _that_. I mean, how much did your whole outfit cost, 20 dollars?"

“I don’t know, and even if I did, I’m not telling you,” she says hotly, wrapping her beige cardigan (that she’d gotten at a Black Friday sale for 70% off) protectively around her. 

“Okay. So, uh, here’s the thing.” Rosé takes a step closer to her, ducking her head and letting her hair fall forwards, covering half her face. She’s toying with the zipper on her cropped jacket, pink blotches appearing on her pale cheeks. “You don’t seem half as terrible as the people I know,” she mumbles. 

“You mean like the chocolate ice cream earlier?” Jisoo asks teasingly. 

“Oh, shut up.” She rubs her eyes, groaning and lifting her face to the ceiling. “I’m _trying_ to tell you that I want you as—as a friend.” 

Jisoo tries her very best not to smile, but it seeps through her voice anyway. “Okay.” 

“Okay, what?” She snaps, still refusing to look at her.

“Okay as in I’ll let you buy dresses worth a thousand dollars for me and listen to you talk about complicated economic theories to justify your ridiculously purchases.” 

At this, Rosé finally peeks at her from between her fingers, and when Jisoo grins at her, she drops them and huffs, turning her nose up and attempting to appear like her usual, arrogant self. “Oh, stop grinning. And _don’t_ say that like you’re doing me a favor when we both know it’s the exact opposite,” she says haughtily, before flouncing off to a section of the room that Jisoo shivers simply by glancing at—florals. (Huge, vibrant, Georgia O Keefe style ones to tiny, dainty ones dotted all over lacy spaghetti strap tank tops that were, in Jisoo’s opinion, definitely lingerie—but were, apparently, not.) 

# ♔

“I’ve tried on dresses in salmon, raspberry, crimson, burgundy and there are _still_ more shades of red to cover? Are you freaking _kidding me_?” Jisoo asks, irritated and itchy from all the labels and tags poking her.

“You forgot hibiscus,” Rosé says, not looking up from the rack, where she’s sifting through rows of yet more pieces and occasionally murmuring things like, _ooh, this would look adorable with pearls_ and _meh, this is so last season_.

“Honey, you can’t help it that you look stunning in red,” Rosé’s mom chimes in, having long ago abandoned her search for clothes to help them. (“Oh my, this is the most exciting project I’ve gotten in a long, long time! Well, excluding the one where my team competed with our rival company to see who created the robot sugar glider first, where we won, obviously—“)

“Um, thanks,” Jisoo mumbles, surprised at the compliment.

“No problem. Now why don’t you go try on this one?” She hands her a simple, velvet dress in a flattering shade of cherry.

“Oh, that one’s gorgeous. You won’t look too horrible in it even if, you know, you’re the one in it.” Rosé says, fishing a dark pink one out and frowning at it for a good few seconds before shrugging and bringing it out.

Jisoo rolls here eyes and, grumpy and doubting her recent life choices, quickly changes into the dress. She steps out of the changing room, expecting the usual ‘well, it’s cute, but it’s not _amazing_ ,’ and ‘we could probably do better’—but what she gets instead is a loud _whoop!_ from Rosé’s mom and a sly smirk slowly spreading across Rosé's face.

“Ladies and gentlemen—well, ladies—I think we’ve finally found the perfect dress!” Mrs. Park crows, punching her fist in the air. “This feels even better than the time we discovered the secret to getting those darn robots to fly!”

Jisoo glances over at Rosé, waiting for her verdict.

“Although it truly isn’t saying much, you look the best as I’ve ever seen you," she says. “Impressive.”

Jisoo slowly turns to glance at herself in the mirror, and even she’s a little startled by what she sees. The dress starts off with a low-cut, swooping neckline that slants in an almost teasing way, and cinches in at the waist before flaring out in a whirl of fabric, dramatic and alluring and powerful in a way Jisoo had never been. She hastily looks away, worried she’ll notice some flaw, some blemish in it—or worse, in herself—and her eyes land on Rosé, who looks more than satisfied.

“Okay, I think I’m getting this,” she breathes out, her lungs weak and her knees shaking, and her friend, her limousine-riding, shopping-addicted, cheap-ice-cream-topping-adoring chipmunk of a friend, squeals.

# ♔

It’s after they’ve slumped down into their seats from exhaustion, taking off their shoes and stretching out on the long seats (after getting permission from John, of course), that Rosé drops the bomb.

“Oh, you do know exactly why we bought that dress, right?” She says, snuggling into a more comfortable position with a plush pink pillow under her head.

“Because you thought I should look good at the next party I’m attending, assuming I ever get invited to one again?” Jisoo guesses, about to complain that she didn’t have a cushion of her own.

“Oh.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “Whoops. Guess I forgot to tell you! You’re not invited to the next party happening here.” She pauses sheepishly. “You’re hosting it.”

“ _What?_ “ Jisoo screeches, nearly falling off the seat. She sits up, suddenly feeling hyper-awake. “What are you _talking_ about?”

“Relax, it’s not a big deal.” Rosé says soothingly. “The pressure’s mostly on me, since I have to find the venue, create the guest list, hire the catering services, choose the food—in fact, _I_ should be the one half-falling out of the seat, not you. But since I don’t want to get my sweater dirty, that's not happening."

Jisoo balks at her. “Okay, how come in the last—“ she checks her phone, “— _five_ hours we have been in there, scouring for the perfect dress, you _completely_ forgot to mention that I’m—excuse me, that _we're_ —going to be having a party?”

“Because!” She’s quiet for a few beats. “Well, no, not because. There is no because. I really just forgot.”

Jisoo considers lunging at her, but she restrains herself and lets out a high-pitched whine instead, dragging her fingers on her cheeks like the despairing guy in _The Scream_ “ _Why_ , though? Why? _Whyyyyy?_ ”

“And people ask me why I hate babies,” Rosé says, shaking her head, before launching into a lousy explanation. “Okay, so I actually got these amazing fall decorations last night, you know, maple leaves, plastic pumpkins, cinnamon-scented candles—and I also bought this insane plaid miniskirt I will literally _die_ if I don’t wear within a week. So I might’ve… decided to throw a party because of all that.”

Jisoo raises an eyebrow. “And people ask me why I hate rich people,” she says, but sighs at Rosé’s pleading expression, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. I’ll wear that dress and go to your stupid party, if that’s what you want, even if—”

“Uh-uh-uh,” Rosé interrupts. “ _Our_ party. You may not be paying for it, but you sure as hell are helping me plan for it. There’s no way I’m going to be able to choose between apple pie and apple crumble cake, after all,” She says blissfully, her eyes fluttering closed.

Jisoo groans and flops back onto the seat.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jisoo's dress is based off the one she wore to the MMAs in 2018! it's probably my favorite outfit she's ever worn... :')


	5. they don't dance and tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosé's not afraid of jail, Jennie clearly wants Jisoo to go to Claire's, and Taehyung would make a good rapper.

The decision making progress was hell, and it didn’t help that it happened for every single tiny detail, from whether the napkins should be folded into flowers or rabbits to whether they should play basic party tunes or classical music to cater to more refined tastes. Jisoo started off nodding along to whatever option Rosé seemed slightly more inclined to, but then every time she was in a particularly aggravated mood, she snapped at her for not considering the issue long enough. So she switched tactics and pretended to ponder the choices carefully, except then Rosé scolded her for being lazy and overly contemplative.

It was great.

But as Jisoo steps into the huge hotel suites booked specially for the party, setting down her bag and shrugging off her coat, she can’t help but feel proud. Rosé would tell her that _she_ had done all the work, so for Jisoo to even feel a glimmer of pride about it would be taking away her hard-earned credit. And that was true to a certain extent, but after all, as she slowly padded into the room in her tentative heels, she’d been the one with the final say on more than a few things—like the cream color of the banner hanging on the far wall, with warm orange letters adorning it.

“Good, you’re here,” Rosé says, appearing out of nowhere and tugging her along. “You brought your dress, right?” Jisoo nods, pulling it out. “Great. Go get changed, we only have around three hours left.”

Jisoo thought three hours was more than enough to prepare for a party that had already been prepared for, but she chose not to argue and slipped into the bathroom. She stifled a laugh upon seeing that, against her warnings, Rosé had decided to let the decorations—which she claimed were the true spirit of a party—spill into it. Garlands with flickering golden stars were streaming down the sides of the huge mirror, a couple candles with the selected scent for the party—cinnamon and apple cider—sat, unlit, on the edge of a wooden cabinet. After taking a quick moment to marvel at her completely transformed surroundings (it’d just been a boring, drab bathroom prior to their work), and rolling her eyes at the apple ornaments hanging from the shower—seriously, the _shower_ —Jisoo manages to stuff herself into her dress, glancing at her reflection.

“We haven’t got all day, get the hell out of there so I can throw in the balloons!” Rosé shouts, making her yelp, and she grudgingly steps out of the bathroom.

Rosé brushes past her, holding five forest green balloons and consulting a list comically long, like one of the cartoon ones that trailed much too far, but lets out a shriek when she enters the bathroom.

“Oh my god, the towels! The towels are _gray_!” She hastily throws the balloons in and rushes back to where she'd come from. Jisoo shakes her head, bemused. The stress was clearly getting to her.

“ _What_ are you _doing_? Can’t you see we’re all busy and that you should be, too?” Rosé huffs as she returns, carrying a set of fluffy white towels in varying sizes, and when Jisoo raises her eyebrows, she retorts, “We have a pool, remember?”

“Right.” She chose to refrain from telling her that it was goddamn freezing and that no one would want to use it, regardless of whether it had been reserved specifically for them or not.

As Rosé places the towels carefully, examining them closely to make sure there were no flaws or speckles of dust, and patting them before straightening up, satisfied. She opens her mouth in a considerably better mood than she’d been for the past week—but the doorbell rings and she turns freakishly pale.

“Oh my God, there’s still,” she checks her watch quickly, “two hours and forty-three minutes left! What the hell?”

Jisoo holds out an arm to reassure her but she stops her with a menacing finger. “Don’t. Now, let’s get down there and see who that is.”

They hurry down the staircase—yes, the hotel suite had _stairs_ , Jisoo hadn’t believed it at first—and Rosé pulls the door open.

She blinks. “Uh… hi.”

Lisa turns around to glare at her brother. “What the fuck, Jungkook.”

Jungkook laughs nervously as he spots the striking emptiness of the room behind. “Didn’t the party start at 5?”

“No, it starts at 7:30.” Rosé sighs dramatically. “There’s early, on time, late and fashionably late. And no such thing called fashionably early—because guess what, it isn’t fashionable _at all_.”

Jungkook shuffles his feet, rubbing his neck. “Then I guess we could always come back, we live within walking distance of here—“

Rosé cuts him off quickly, her tone dripping with sweetness. “ _No._ You came here, you stay. And while you’re at it, we expect you to help us prepare.”

“Hey, who’s we—“ Jisoo starts jokingly, but goes quiet when Rosé gives her an icy stare.

“Uh, sure,” Jungkook says, and Lisa gives a pained smile and nods.

“More people to work, less work for everyone,” Rosé says matter-of-factly, as the twins start walking towards the main hall—Jisoo thinks they’re the most different pair of siblings she’s ever seen, Jungkook’s strides being casual and collected while Lisa practically radiates confidence and cool. She notices Rosé shooting Lisa an envious glance, and tilts her head. She catches her looking and grimaces.

“I’ve been on the lookout for that jacket for the last freaking _year_ ,” she complains. “I cannot believe she got it first.”

Jisoo wrinkles her forehead. “If you ask me, that just looks like a giant, furry dog accidentally stepped in a bucked of hot pink dye and splashed around in it for a good five minutes. I’d pay ten bucks for it, maybe fifteen.”

Rosé makes a noise at the back of her throat that sounds an awful lot like a whimper.

# ♔

Jisoo’s sent on a whirlwind of confusing errands and tasks that keep her more than sufficiently busy for the next two hours. People arrive in crowds, their dresses gleaming recklessly under the dancing beams of light and their laughter much too light and airy to be genuine. That still doesn’t explain how the next time she sees Rosé, sipping on a drink and leaning against the wall under a montage of falling leaves, painted red and yellow and faded tangerine, she’s wearing the jacket. Lisa’s jacket.

“You know, you could go to jail for a year for theft,” she says as she walks up to her, picking up a cup of lime-green soda.

“And you know my family’s rich as fuck, right?” She takes another sip. “Bail, baby."

Jisoo rolls her eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

“So I’ve been told.” She turns around to look at her. “We talked. She actually seemed… nice.”

Jisoo throws her hands up in the air. “Oh, so she gets nice and I get ‘not terrible’?”

Rosé smirks. “Why, do you also happen to be in possession of a 4500 dollar article of clothing that you can gift to me in exchange for me describing you as nice?”

“Well… no.”

“Exactly,” she says. “Besides, nice is dumb. Nice people are only nice because they don’t know how to get what they want. So they choose to give other people what they want to fill that void, which isn’t all that hard anyway, because what is communication but a way for people to vent about things they want, whether directly or indirectly? And they say they derive joy from all those altruistic acts, but they only say that because they don’t know what the hell they’ve done for their own lives while supporting tens of hundreds of others and don’t want to appear pathetic and sad.” She smiles. “You’re not nice. You make sense, after all. I've never understood nice people."

Jisoo snorts. “Thanks. That explains a lot."

“You’re welcome,” she says. She sets down her glass on the table, quickly trading it for another one filled with a bubbling, frothy coral drink, which Jisoo knows is tastes like akebia, because she’d been the one to put the foot down on too many exotic fruits. (Who the heck had ever heard of _biriba_ and _tamarillo_? Definitely not the professional they’d hired to write the calligraphy for the food labels—he kept asking them what the fruit names were _in English, please_ and then, if they were sure the flavors weren’t simply strawberry and mango.) (Which, frankly, Jisoo wanted to ask Rosé too.)

Just then, Lisa arrives, stumbling a little in her vintage leather boots. “You look better in pink than I do,” she says to Rosé as a way of greeting.

“I look good in anything,” she replies, but looks pleased at the compliment.

“So. Jisoo?” Lisa asks, turning to Jisoo. She seems softer, freer, than when she’d been with Jennie, and Jisoo instantly prefers this version of her. Especially because she isn’t loudly chewing a piece of gum and blowing crazy bubbles with it.

“Yeah. Lisa?”

“Yup. Hey, you know, that day at school? I’m not close to Jennie—no one is, maybe except for Taehyung before some shit blew up between them—but I’m good at reading people, and Jennie Kim, unlike what her personality suggests, is part of people. She seemed pretty pissed off.” She holds up a hand for a high-five. “Congratulations.”

Jisoo doesn’t exactly get why they’re celebrating this… achievement, but she slaps her hand anyway.

“Oh, and Rosé, you were curious about the teal slip dress from Celine?” She asks, and Rosé seems to perk up like an excited puppy, nodding eagerly. Lisa smirks at her reaction—but not in a mean way. “You really have to come over sometime. Show me the cupcakes the invitation promised?”

“Don’t know if there’s any left by now, considering that they were made by this amazing pâtissier—but sure,” she says, and they float off in the direction of the sweets, leaving Jisoo alone—but only for a few seconds, because as soon as they’re gone, Jennie appears next to her, like she’d waved her magic wand and come to torture Jisoo.

She’s wearing a short pink dress with exquisite ruffles gracing the skirt, like the tiers of a wedding cake, with huge milky pearls for buttons running down the front. She’s clutching a creamy gray Chanel purse, the gold logo glaringly bright even in the slight shadow they were in.

“Rosé wouldn’t approve of that outfit,” Jisoo blurts out.

Jennie laughs, tilting her head. “Why, because it’s way cuter than anything she’s ever owned?”

“No, the uh—dress code. You were supposed to wear only red or green shades.”

“I don’t follow rules unless I was the one who set them.” She thinks for a moment. “Well, no, I don’t even follow my own rules, honestly.”

“Oh.” Jisoo doesn’t know what to say, and she’s relieved when Jennie opens her mouth—even it is just to insult her.

“It’s a crime you’re not wearing that dress with some diamonds,” she says sympathetically. “Or any kind of silver jewelry, even it’s something you got from Claire’s when you were 8.”

“I'll be sure to put on my best friends forever bracelet the next time I go to a party," she says sarcastically.

“Yes, I'm sure your best friend would love that," she replies dryly, before knitting her eyebrows, her eyes fixed a small distance away from her. "Oh, by the way, do you know a good place to make out in here?”

Jisoo almost chokes on her drink, picking up a napkin to wipe the corner of her mouth hastily, before replying, “Uh… maybe the master bedroom?”

“Don’t give me that look, it’s not for my own personal use,” she snaps.

“ _Sure._ ”

“And have you seen Taehyung?”

“Um, I think I saw him by the music station an hour ago?”

Jennie gives her a look. “You do realize that that’s no help at all, right?” She sets down her empty drink, appearing ready to leave. “And what about Jungkook?”

“Um… he dropped by to say hi just around,” she glances at the antique clock behind her, “8:15.”

“Also not helpful,” Jennie says, shaking her head and rummaging through her bag, emerging with a small envelope, and passes it to her. “Dress accordingly, because while I don’t tolerate rules, I also don’t tolerate other people breaking mine.”

“You must really have a low tolerance,” she observes, taking the envelope hesitantly, convinced it’s some sort of trap.

“Yeah, except for when it comes to alcohol,” she smiles, flicking the glass she’d just put down. When Jisoo turns around, she’s already been swallowed by the crowd, a whiff of perfume breezing by in her wake.

Jisoo glances down at the envelope, turning it over. It’s black, and there’s zero indication of what it might be. She walks over to a quiet corner and opens it, and an intricately drawn bat slides out, its wings stretching out like it’s gliding high up in the night sky, chasing the moon. In glowing golden letters, it spells out _Halloween, Oct. 31_ —which is the most obvious thing ever. She studies it closely for any other traces of words, but there’s none, and she wonders if Jennie meant to give her some twisted lessons about different holidays. Frustrated, she stuffs it back into the envelope and slips it into her bag.

“Hey,” a familiar voice says behind her, and she whips around to see Taehyung, and she’s about to reply when there’s a loud bang and a swell of rising voices, and Jisoo’s about to turn to the commotion when he starts talking so fast it’s making her incredibly dizzy. “We need to get out of here, actually it’s just me that needs to get out, but I don’t want to leave alone, so would it be okay if you came, ‘cause, no offense, but you don’t really need a reason to be here right now, right, and even if you do, could you please ignore it and come with me, I promise I’ll make it up to you?”

“Wh—“

“Please?”

“Okay, um, let me just tell Rosé—“

“No time,” he says, and he starts walking in a way that’s more like running, and she hurries to catch up with him, and soon they’re out the door, panting and Jisoo’s hands on her knees.

“I’ll talk more once we’re actually out of here,” he says quickly, and motions for her to follow.

Once they’re outside, the cold air hits Jisoo hard, and she shivers. He guides her to the back of the building, which opens up into a lavish garden with bursting flowers and well-tamed bushes growing in neatly arranged shapes, and he stops behind a huge oak tree.

“So… what happened?” She asks, peering out at the dark and twinkling lights ahead.

“Long story.”

“Oh, you _owe_ me the long story.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Do I?”

She crosses her arms. “Then I’ll just return to the party and tell everyone you’re out here.”

He sighs. “I’ll give you the short story, and I’ll at least _think_ about the full one. Alright?”

“Fine, but only because I’m freezing and want nothing more than to go home and curl up in my bed.”

“Okay, so I had something Jennie couldn’t know about. Well, she already knew, but that was besides the point when it came to her. And she was about to find out. So I’m here.”

“That was the worst explanation I’ve ever heard.”

“I know, but—“ He stops, glancing at her bag. “Did you, by any chance, receive an envelope today? From a vaguely attractive, vapid, kind of dumb girl who’s pretty in a very generic way?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go as far to call Jennie dumb or vapid, mostly for fear of getting struck down by lightning, but yeah.”

His eyes widen. “You got the bat from _Jennie_? Wow, she must really be intrigued by you.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing.”

“It’s not, trust me, but it _is_ a big deal.”

“So are you going to at least tell me what the hell it is? All it says is Halloween, October 31st, which I already freaking know. Is it some invisible ink shit?”

He laughs. “No, Jennie got over that in middle school. So, the thing is, it’s an invitation. Except for the absolute losers who know literally _no one_ —" apparently, that was Jisoo for the last two years, "—everyone at Serenity gets one for Lisa’s annual Halloween party—even the freshmen—and the shape and design vary each year, but they always have the same cryptic message. Most people get confused and throw it away, thinking it’s some stupid prank, except if you know the right people, they’ll tell you when and where it is, so that you get to go.” He shrugs. “It’s one of Jennie’s smarter tactics to avoid lectures from our parents and teachers about being overly exclusive and elitist. If they scold her, she can just argue that she gave out the invitations but not everyone showed up, which is true in a sense.”

Her mouth drops open. “Wow.”

“And usually she gets her minions to pass them out, and she only carries around her own. So, like I said,” he points at her, “Impressive.”

"Whatever. So, can you tell me the information I need?”

“Lisa’s house at 9, and I think you have to tell the guard ‘Taehyung is awesome’.” She glares at him. “Fine, it’s ‘sour candy’. Although I don’t know why anyone would want sour candy.” He makes a face.

“And she talked about dressing accordingly, what's that about?"

He gives her a look like _duh_. “It’s a Halloween party. What are you going to do, show up in your pajamas?”

“That’s an idea,” she jokes, but he looks genuinely concerned, and she hastily adds, “I'm kidding. I’ll think of something.”

“Good, because there’s a costume competition in the middle of the night, and I would love it if someone other than Jennie won at least once.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s so not happening.”

He groans, but suddenly stops. “Oh, wait. You wanted the long story?”

She nods. “Doesn’t everyone?”

He grins. “I’ll tell you the long story—that is, if you win the competition.”

“Sorry, what did you say? All I heard was ‘I’m totally never telling you the long story’.”

“No, I do have faith in you. You’re… cool. You’re brave—“ she makes a face, “—but in a way that’s like, your legs are shaking and your palms are sweating and your voice is barely working, and you want to run away screaming, but you still do it anyway.”

“Doesn’t sound much like bravery to me. In fact, it sounds like _panic_ and _terror_."

“Trust me, jumping into a battle because you don’t think it’s scary is just lunacy, while running into it because you know it’s right is courage.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Thanks, but I’ve also lost feeling in my toes.” He gives his feet a few good shakes and grimaces.

“Can you drive me home? Rosé’s still in there.”

“Sure,” he replies, and they make their way to his car, complaining about the weather and the clouds swarming the sky, hiding the stars from view. They’re about to get in when Jisoo smirks, a thought just occurring to her.

“Oh, hey, by the way?” He looks up, and her grin spreads even wider. “You and Jungkook looked absolutely _adorable_ the other day. Keep up the cuteness!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update took longer than usual but I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'm also putting down the link for a prologue/character introduction page I created way back when I was still messing around with the idea for this story, so you can go check it out! https://www.wattpad.com/923970308-a-perfect-storm-blackpink-prelude  
> Thanks always for the support <3


	6. dropping glasses just to hear them break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jungkook shares a lot of helpful TMI and Jisoo thanks God for Snapchat filters. Oh, and poor Jessica.

“I’m going to murder someone, and if you don’t accompany me, that someone is going to be you. Well, you _and_ him,” are the first words Jisoo hears upon arriving at school on Monday, which is probably not a good signal for the rest of the week to come.

She turns around, blowing on her cup of coffee and shivering in her thin windbreaker, and she’s stunned to see just how furious Rosé is—it’s not like fumes are coming out of her nostrils and she’s stomping angrily on the ground, but there’s a controlled rage to her tone that clearly wouldn’t be restrained for much longer. She knits her eyebrows, concerned.

“What’s up?”

Rosé’s mouth drops open. “What the hell did you do over the weekend? _Homework?_ “

Jisoo frowns. “Uh, yes, that is, in fact, exactly what I did—“

“Well, I suppose it’s for the better that you don’t know,” she says huffily, before marching across the road to the main school building, whipping around and motioning impatiently for her to follow.

Jisoo sighs but catches up to her, careful not to spill her coffee. Rosé glances at it and asks if she can have it, and grabs it from her before she answers and drowns it in a couple large gulps.

“I’ll buy you a zillion other cappuccinos if you need them, but right now I need your moral support.” She pauses. “Or physical support. Do you mind me using you as a human shield? No?”

Jisoo steps away from her, crossing her arms. “Only if you tell me what this is about.”

“Oh, that’s not happening. If not telling you means I can keep this ridiculous rumor from reaching at least one person, I’m not doing it,” she sniffs, before pushing open the doors.

Jisoo notices a couple of things right then. One, whispers didn’t erupt, they glided. They started off at the very front, buzzing like agitated, excited bees and blew up into a bubble of noise, which floated gently down the hall, hovering over heads and bumping into lockers, growing larger with every person it passed and threatening to burst into a cacophony of humming and hissing and purring. Two, heads didn’t turn, they stayed the same while eyes swiveled back and forth, slowly raking over their faces before jumping back to their friends, dancing with delight and envy. And three, they evidently weren’t the center of attention—well, they weren’t the _only_ center. Jisoo looked closely and discovered that the crowd was flowing with anticipation, anxiously glancing back and forth between them and a small clique of girls poised at the very end of the hallway, with Jennie holding court, hair high in a sleek ponytail.

She caught a few words—Rosé, Jennie, and something about a goldfish?—but couldn’t piece them together, as the only scenario she could imagine was Rosé stealing Jennie’s precious goldfish and keeping it, which would certainly be interesting but was not at all plausible. (She really needed to work on her detective skills.)

Jennie gives them a friendly enough wave, and Jisoo breathes out, relieved, until she realized she was always sickeningly sweet when she wanted to give you a piece of her venomous mind.

“Rosé, so nice to see you,” she says, making her way over to them. “And, of course, you.” She flashes a smile at Jisoo, before turning back to Rosé, head tilted and pointing at Jisoo. “Does she—?”

“No,” Rosé replies, her voice quivering but with a defiant steel edge to it.

“Well, then, there’s no reason for us to go somewhere else to—ah—chat.” She leans forward, her eyelash extensions nearly brushing Rosé’s honey blonde locks. Jisoo knows she means for her to hear, because her eyes flit over to hers before she says quietly, “I’m not dumb, no one’s mad at you. Well, they think I am, so I might have to keep up this pretense for a while—but do go find out the story. I know what happened, but I can’t go tattling to my daddy again, can I?” Her voice drops another octave, swooping low. “I trust you to get the story and get the story _out_.” A look of understanding passes over Rosé’s features, and Jennie smirks, satisfied. “Good girl.”

“I’m not a dog,” she snaps, but Jennie’s already striding away.

“So?” Jisoo demands. “She’s not a him, but it’s clear she had something to do with the poor dude you’re planning on killing. Are you going to explain it to me or not?”

“Oh, please,” she says, already turning the corner and checking the time with the clock on the wall, moving at a brisk pace Jisoo was having difficulty matching in the early hours of the morning. “I’m not the one to do the explaining here.”

“What do you—“

“Hi, Jungkook,” Rosé says, sliding into a seat next to him and pushing the surprised boy down the bench. “Shove over, or I’m breaking up with you,” she says cheerfully, and Jisoo sits down, grateful that Rosé hadn’t left her standing there awkwardly until she realizes what she’d said.

“What do you mean—“

“My _sweetheart_ ’s going to explain,” she cuts in, pressing a finger to her lips and gesturing at a shocked Jungkook. “Oh, cut the crap, you Oscar-deserving scoundrel. We both know what you have to do now.”

He holds up his hands. “Look, I’m not responsible for the rumors!”

She feigns confusion.“Sorry, were you not the one who was basically caught cheating on his girlfriend?”

He rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t caught, how many times do I have to say that?”

“Ugh, you are convincing no one. Seriously, get real. Or we have to start holding hands or worse, kissing in public.”

“We could always stage a breakup,” he offered, and she balked.

“Of course I’m breaking up with you the instant you tell me the truth,” she responds, sounding almost offended he’d consider staying together for even another second.

“You are so conceited.”

“So I’ve been told as much. Has anyone ever told _you_ you’re a whiny asshole who refuses to own up to his mistakes?”

“I may have heard that once or twice,” he says dryly, before sighing. “Fine. I owe you that much.”

Jisoo blinks, taken aback by the exchange and her mind whirring. Jungkook sees her and snorts. “Please, stop the guesswork, because whatever you’re thinking, it’s wrong.”

“Really?” She raises her eyebrows. “So it has nothing to do with Taehyung rushing out with me on the night of the party.”

He and Rosé exchange a look and turn back to her.

“Okay, so maybe you’re not a total dumbass,” he concedes, “but there’s no way you know the whole story. You can’t. It literally happened before you moved here.”

“How do you—“

“Jennie talks a lot to me because she thinks I never listen. And boy, have you shot to the top of her 'things-I-hate-but-never-stop-talking-about' list fast.” He holds up a hand. “But reserve your intriguing questions for until I’m done, because we have to take a trip back to elementary school.”

“That’s a long way back," Rosé grumbled.

He shot her a glare. “In second grade, my parents got a divorce, which sucked. Less than two months later, he was marrying a woman who was five years older than him, the marrying part being normal for the men in our… community, but the age difference—more specifically, the way it swung—being highly abnormal, which also sucked because people wouldn't leave us alone about it, including our relatives— _especially_ our relatives. Hell, even the kids at school would come up to me and tease me about my dad getting married to some old grandma, with all the bullshit they’d overheard from their parents’ snarky conversations.” He shrugs. “That’s when I met Taehyung. He had a happy family life—that is, before middle school, when his dad found his wife sleeping with one of her associates—the associate was a _she_ , by the way—sorry, am I adding too many details?” Jisoo and Rosé nod in unison, wanting to get it over with quickly. He shrugs. “Sadly, I don’t care, that’s just how I talk. Anyway, Taehyung was… the best. And I don’t mean that in a sentimental, sappy, ‘he was my best friend who was always loyal and kind and generous’ way, but I mean that in general and as a fact. Everyone accepted it—that he was the most studious, most athletic, most polite, most admired, most liked—he was the best and the most.” He grinned. “Unlike his twin sister, who _no one_ wanted to hang out with thanks to her tacky pink glasses and mouth full of metal.”

It takes Jisoo a moment to understand he was talking about Jennie. _Their_ Jennie.

“Now would be a good time to tell us that Taehyung has another twin,” Rosé says.

“That would make him a triplet, which his parents thought lacked class, so no.” He continues. “So Taehyung and I were pretty much inseparable. And... god, who cares, you two don't know shit about romance anyway." Rosé opens her mouth to object (Jisoo wasn't even going to try) but he keeps talking. "When I first met him, I felt this terrifying, elating attraction to him, not like opposite sides of a magnet because that’s cliché as fuck, but like we were part of those retractable keychain things and I kept running away just to be whisked back to his side, quicker than ever. So, you know, our families aren’t big on inclusion—which you think wouldn’t be completely true, with them being racial minorities and all, but absolutely is. I grew up thinking I wanted to _be_ Taehyung, with his easygoing attitude and captivating charm, and then I did some more growing up and realized, by sixth grade at least, that I probably just wanted him. Or, to put it in more adolescent terms, had a huge crush on him.

“Then Jennie Kim also grew up, and it was a disaster for every-fucking-one.” He heaves a dramatic sigh. “You know what they say, girls who are born pretty are nice because they’re been pretty their entire lives, and those who suddenly become pretty—whether by means of puberty and hormones, or, of course, the sheer power of modern science—aren’t, because they recognize this newfound beauty as a weapon, because they know the difference in the treatment you receive depending on your appearance from experience. And Jennie had always been a conniving bitch, she just found it so much easier to get shit done her way when she was gorgeous.

“She figured out her plan to rise to the top of the pyramid pretty quickly. She ditched the few nerdy kids she grudgingly ate lunch with and approached the popular girls, showering them with gifts only to ruin them with the secrets they’d spilled accidentally. She earned a nasty but coveted reputation for herself that was hushed when the adults entered the picture because who knew what she would do if her pristine records were sullied by a belligerent victim. And so it came to the point where she’d accomplished everything on her checklist except for the part where she got a hot boyfriend.”

“Please don’t tell me you just called yourself hot,” Rosé mutters, to which he smiles gracefully.

“I did, as a matter of fact, because it’s a truth no one can deny and no one should be denying.” He conveniently ignores Rosé pretending to gag. “Hanging out with Taehyung had made me second best, which didn’t sound great, but put in a different way, it meant I was considered better than the 200 other boys in our year. That I was in the resented one percent. And Jennie obviously couldn’t date her own brother, so she chose me.

“I could’ve said no, yes, but there would be too much to risk. Besides, I was also pretty sure I liked girls, and she _was_ pretty as she was mean, and she wasn’t even mean to me, so what did I have to lose?” He shrugs. “Even in retrospect, this much remains true.”

“Except for your dignity, because your lying ass cheated on her,” Rosé points out.

“Ah, yes, dignity, something that I don’t have but Jennie has even less.” He shakes his head. “Do you _honestly_ think she never messed around?”

Rosé opens her mouth, but can’t think of a good answer that doesn’t involve the word _no_.

“Exactly. But you know how in misogynistic culture, a man cheats on his wife again and again without apologizing or even showing the decency to be embarrassed, but when she does the same thing once, she’s immediately shamed and attacked?” He pouts. “I’m the wife.”

“Just because you did it less than her or received your punishment for it doesn’t mean it was right,” Jisoo argues.

He sighs. “All too true.”

Rosé prods him with her finger. “So what exactly did you do with Taehyung that made her so mad?”

He snorts. “You’re both probably thinking along the lines of slept together multiple times. Think smaller. And then even smaller, because we didn’t even goddamn _kiss_.” He grins. “Actually, no, scratch that last part.”

“Wait, but how exactly did you two get together?” Rosé asks.

“It’s private,” he complains.

“Private my ass. Should’ve thought of that before you sneaked into the bedroom when you knew plain as hell that Jennie had her eyes on you.”

He huffs but relents. “It’s… relatively new. It wasn’t until around a year ago when he came out to me. And he didn’t say it like ‘so, dude, I’m gay, I hope you’re cool with it’, it was more along the lines of ‘I’m gay, and I’m desperately hoping you are too’.”

“Hot,” Rosé whistles.

He gives her a radiant smile. “Why, thank you, I was under the impression you were denying my hotness.”

She scoffs at him. “I meant Taehyung.”

“ _Sure._ So, I was going to break up with Jennie, but our parents thought we were such a marvelous couple, they seriously had not only our weddings and honeymoons planned out but our _retirement homes_ and _cemeteries_ picked out. Like, who the fuck does that?”

“Your parents,” Jisoo supplies unhelpfully.

“Yes, yes. And besides that, there was the fact that Jennie was fucking scary and Taehyung was the only one who could get her to see sense. We didn’t want to ruin that, so we snuck around.” He frowns. “That makes it sound bad. We mostly talked. Played games. Went on road trips. It was amazing, being best friends with someone who you knew loved you, and not in a platonic way.” His face tightens. “Then Jennie happened—again.”

“What do you mean?” Rosé presses, sympathy dusting her tone lightly.

“She reads people well. And by well, I mean she’ll take one look at you and probably guess at least half of you—your personality, insecurities, strengths, secrets—correctly. We had a family brunch, and she was being so nice it was freaky, then when we were almost done eating, she brought up gay people to our parents. Did _not_ blow over well.”

Jisoo sucks in her breath. “That’s horrible.”

“Then she _told_ her parents—who were too shocked to tell even my parents, thank God—that Taehyung and I had something going on and it was definitely romantic.” He shrugs. “They flipped. He was grounded for six months and couldn’t talk to me ever again. Oh, and he was also ordered to get himself a girlfriend, which was hilarious, because the instant kids heard that, his phone blew up with messages from pretty much every single girl at Serenity.”

Jisoo and Rosé are quiet, their usual sardonic comments and witty remarks having burrowed back deep into their minds and at a loss for what to say.

“That pretty much sums it up, but to give a conclusion that leads to the present, we avoided each other for at least half a year. Then we couldn’t, so we started talking, testing out the waters, and we headed into the bedroom that night ‘cause it was way too loud and, sure, maybe we wanted to make out. And Jisoo, since you don’t know what Miss Roseanne has to do with all this and she is obviously not gonna relay the information to you, I'll be the one to tell you. Taehyung slipped out when he noticed that Jennie had been keeping an eye out for us, and then this girl here suddenly entered the room, wearing this ugly pink jacket—“

“ _Hey!_ It was cute!“

“—and dancing, and I was confused, then Jennie burst in. She knew she’d lost her timing, of course, but everyone else just saw her anger and me and Rosé in the bedroom and assumed. Moral of the story? I would never be caught dead making out with someone in an ugly pink jacket.”

“Stop calling it ugly or I’m throttling you.”

“Be careful, or people might think we’re cuddling—oof!” She shoved him hard, and he almost fell backwards.

“Wow, I love how energetic you are," he retorts, and they glare at each other.

Jisoo interrupts. “But um… at the party, you seemed a lot…”

He says “Nicer?” as Rosé says “Less like an asshat?” He gapes at her, faking shock, before clearing his throat. “Yeah, you see, I like to be in control of my—to use her words—asshat-o-meter. It’s exhausting to be so enamoring all the time—not because I have to use much effort, but because way too many girls flock over and start pestering me.”

Jisoo stares at him. “I don’t know if that’s the most douche-y thing I’ve heard or actually not horrible.”

“The former,” Rosé says. “And please, as if that’s in your power.”

He raises an eyebrow, before spotting a tall, sporty girl who was a senior _and_ a cheerleader as far as Jisoo knew and calling out, “Hey, Jessica!” She looks over at him expectantly, tucking her hair behind her ear and lowering the books she was clutching to her chest to reveal a fair amount of cleavage in a flimsy tank top. Rosé shakes her head at Jisoo, moments from snickering. “I’m heading out for pizza after the game tonight, you want to come with me?”

“Just the two of us?”

“Yeah,” he replies, and her lips pull into a winning smile.

“Sure,” she says, before practically skipping down the hall.

“And then I don’t show up. Mission be a total asshat complete.” He says smugly. “And don’t forget, you asked me to demonstrate.”

“I challenged you, that’s different!” Rosé protests.

He waves his hand. “Nah.”

“You’re really going to stand her up?” Jisoo asks, a whoosh of pity blowing into her.

“I’ll text her at lunch.” He stands up, shouldering his backpack. “Do not repeat the story to anyone else or I’ll tell everyone I broke up with you—“ he looks at Rosé, then Jisoo, “—because you two were so madly in love.” He hesitates. “And thanks for—thanks for listening.”

“You’re welcome,” Jisoo mumbles awkwardly.

“See you,” Rosé says, and he’s off in a blur, leaving them with many more thoughts than they’d expected.

“So we’re not going to tell Jennie, right?” Jisoo asks in a rush, anxious for her to answer yes.

“Please. I’m mean, but I’m not heartless.” She looks at her, eyes sparkling. “But I do have something else planned for Jennie.”

# ♔

“I look like a banana,” Jisoo declares, stepping out of yet another fitting room in a high-end boutique.

“I was going to say no, but then I actually looked at you.” Rosé, her freshly dyed flame-red locks swaying, taps on the third door. “Lisa, we need your opinion!”

“Just a sec, just adjusting this damn headband,” she calls back, before hopping out.

“Belle here thinks she looks like a banana,” Rosé says. “What do you say?”

“Banana,” Lisa confirms. “You may look like the Beauty but you sure ain’t rocking the color.”

Rosé collapses onto a small cushioned seat, groaning. “What other princesses are there? Uh… Sleeping Beauty?” She suddenly frowns. “I never got that. Everyone looks ugly as heck when they’re sleeping.”

“Maybe it’s just you?” Jisoo asks innocuously, and she throws a pillow at her, barely missing her by centimeters.

“Cinderella could work, except she’s crazy opposed to dyeing her hair and a brunette Cinderella is unfathomable. But we could always try.”

“Or how about we don’t do princesses?” Jisoo pipes up.

“Or how about you just try on the Cinderella gown?” Lisa counters.

Rosé cuts in. “And remember, our costumes aren’t about following the traditional ideas of princesses, with long, frilly dresses and petticoats, they’re modern versions of them, with no strings attached to dumb men, those who control powerful careers—“

“You know what? That gown looks incredibly appealing after all.” Jisoo picks it up from the rack and heads back into her stall, shedding the banana-dress and zipping on the powder blue one, not bothering to mask her surprise at how comfortable it is as she goes back out to face Rosé and Lisa.

“Ta-da!” She says, holding out her arms and doing lame jazz hands, and Lisa tosses her a pair of—socks?—no, satin gloves, which she slips on quickly as she waits for their verdict. She even twirls a bit, which results in her nearly tripping over her feet and plummeting to the floor, and Rosé opens her mouth when Lisa’s phone rings, blasting out the lyrics to some catchy pop song about chillin’ with ice cream.

“Sorry,” she says before picking it up, sliding to answer the call. “What?” she demands. “At the mall, shopping for costumes for the party. Uh-huh. That’d be great, except don’t—fine. We’re at Cloud 9. Hurry over.” She ends the call and looks up at them. “Jungkook’s at the mall ‘cause he had some stuff to buy and offered to drive us home. I don’t 'hope you don’t mind' because I don’t care, but because I'm polite: I hope you don't mind.”

Rosé shrugs, before turning to Jisoo and announcing, “I give that dress a nine point seven one.”

Jisoo rolls her eyes but curtsies, somewhat pleased.

Lisa chimes in. “But for real, you have to get it. And promise we won’t force you to go blonde, because I actually tried it with a Snapchat filter with this picture of you and…” Lisa holds her phone up. “It’s a no-go.”

Jisoo shudders at the photo. “Agreed.”

“So you’ll take it?”

“Uhm…” The red dress she’d bought previously had, thankfully, not been as expensive as she’d thought. She twisted around to check the price tag, when the door opened and she jumped, backing away.

“Woah, I’m not here to attack you,” Jungkook teased, before taking in her extravagant outfit and smirking. “And Lisa, you were right—she _is_ my type.”

“Oh, ew.” Jisoo picks up the pillow Rosé had launched at her and throws it to him, which he catches with infuriating ease.

“So you blew off Jessica?” Rosé asks.

“And _you_ went all Little Mermaid?”

Her eyes light up in delight. “Precisely! Whew, now I’m feeling better about that impulsive decision.”

“And now I’m feeling bad about making you feel better,” he remarks, and she throws another pillow at him.

“What did those pillows ever do to you?” Jisoo shrieks as it hits her arm.

“So-rry,” she says loftily.

Jungkook claps briskly. “Hurry up, you sloths. I have shit to do.”

“Fine, fine,” Lisa says, facing Jisoo. “So you’re going to get it, right? Because this place is _actually_ …” She grins, drumming her hands on her knees to add tension, and Rosé follows suit reluctantly. “A thrift store!”

Jisoo’s mouth drops open as she fumbles for the tag, and sure enough, it’s at least two digits less than what she’d been expecting and totally in her price range. She meets Lisa’s eyes, sending her a silent thank-you, before replying, “Hell yes I'm getting it.”

# ♔

Jisoo and Rosé knock on the front door, gulping as they glance around at the realistic gravestones and zombies and harsh jack-o-lanterns peppering the sprawling gardens beyond them. They both jump, Rosé instinctively clinging on to Jisoo’s sleeve tightly, when the brass knocker in the shape of a slithering snake hisses a welcome and the door slowly opens, revealing… darkness. Pitch, inky black, without even a weak smattering of stars.

“Hello?” Jisoo calls out, aware of Rosé’s nails digging into her shoulder but finding the sharp pain comforting rather than irritating.

There’s a deafening roar of a lion and a bloodcurdling shriek, then another door swings forward, this time with light pouring in and scents wafting in from it. They rush forwards, eager to get out of the suffocating space, and shut the heavy door, relieved, when they’re out.

“Enjoy my spectacle?” Lisa appears in front of them, her grin stretching wide like the Cheshire Cat.

“Oh, yes, very,” Rosé snaps, and Jisoo notes that she’s startlingly pale, her skin a waxy shade.

Lisa’s smug expression vanishes. “Shit, did that scare you? I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” She takes a few deep breaths and smiles. “At least now I have an excuse to get drunk.” She hurries off and Lisa shrugs, turning back to Jisoo.

“Well?” She says, spreading her arms. “Did I do a decent job or what?”

Jisoo finally takes the time to look around, her eyes lingering on the creepy skeletons dangling from the balconies, before darting to the neat slices of pumpkin pie sprinkled with cinnamon and crowned with a ombré maple leaf made of sugar, and zooming over the glow-in-the-dark stickers stuck artistically to the deep purple and orange walls. She shrugs, careful to keep her voice light so her friend would know she was kidding. “Well, maybe decent, but I’m not sure about good.”

“You suck,” she laughs good-naturedly.

Jisoo grins, but her gaze fixes on the throngs of people moving, drinking, talking. And their costumes. Her eyes drifted over boys clammed up in furry suits of gorillas and cheap suits and sunglasses claiming to be the lead in this Hollywood action movie or that, landing on girls with gold-rimmed glasses and pointy witch’s hats, fairy wings sprouting out of their backs and chunky rhinestone belts holding up their flare jeans, dressed in green wigs and denim shorts and polka-dot bikini tops, and she already feels delirious as she slowly returns her attention back to her apple-avoiding companion.

She took a quick moment to admire the effort Lisa had put into appearing as the “new” Snow White; she had a nylon lemon-yellow skort riding high up her lanky legs, layering expensive vintage tank tops in white and red, with a classy aquamarine cropped jacket draped on her shoulders and an artfully wrapped white scarf adorning her neck. She had a funky light-up plastic red ribbon on her head, which would be considered tacky but was beyond chic on her, the shade slowly turning from a leafy green to an ocean navy. She had gold boots running up nearly to her knee, the laces tied in a complicated knot.

She lights up as her phone rings. “Ooh, we’ve got another guest coming in. What should we do for her?” She excitedly shows her screen to Jisoo, who grimaces at the memory, but scans it for different options, from ‘zombie hand’ to ‘rising bodies’.

“Uh… try a combination of the ‘strange rustling’ and ‘evil laughter’?”

Lisa nods and presses the buttons, adding ‘high-pitched scream’ at the last minute and waiting for her victim to appear.

“OH, FUCKING HELL!”

The door bursts open and Jennie slams it closed, leaning on it and glancing over her shoulder. “Jesus Christ, y’all should know better than to—“

But Jisoo kind of doesn’t hear the rest. She’s too… stunned, by Jennie’s costume. She has on an ivory coat—the kind that soldiers wore in battle—but it’s tailored to fit her perfectly, cinching in at the waist with a thick gold belt and relaxing on her small shoulders, with the gold streamers draped on each side and a collection of medals and awards proudly presented on her left chest. Instead of pants, she has on an alarmingly red tennis skirt and white stockings, shiny black loafers on her feet and—Jisoo looks up—a crown on her head. And not one of those queen crowns, with curves and loops and too many fancy jewels, but a king one, that demanded respect and veneration with each powerful arc carved into the heavy gold and sapphires gracing the tips. And Jisoo’s pretty certain she knows what she’s supposed to be, but she asks anyway because she wants to be sure, she has to be sure.

“So, er, what are you dressed up as?”

Jennie’s eyes dance over her outfit, owl-grey cardigan and ballerina bun and sweeping gown and all, and she sighs. “Apparently, your wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept wondering while writing this if we'd even be trick or treating this year hahah.. @~@


	7. impress the empress; take a shot now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo gets half of a gold heart and decides she's never watching Red Velvet again. And Jennie is an avid rom-com fan who fervently denies it when asked.

Lisa makes a face, putting a protective arm around Jisoo. “Why, what are you supposed to be?”

Jennie raises an eyebrow. “Guess.”

“The brand? That sounds quite stup—“

“I think she’s telling to you guess,” Jisoo says, and Lisa’s mouth falls into an _oh_.

“Well, I don’t know much about medieval knights, so… King Arthur?”

Jennie rolls her eyes. “Princess Charming. It’s the female version of Prince Charming, who married Cinderella. But not this Cinderella, of course,” she says, casting an unreadable look at Jisoo.

“Yeah, because this Cinderella’s much more gorgeous.” Lisa retorts defensively, before pausing and turning to Jisoo. “Well, that’s probably because you don’t have evil stepsisters and a crazy stepmom, but whatever.”

Jisoo laughs uncomfortably, and breathes out a quiet sigh when she spots Rosé heading towards them, already a bit tipsy.

“Hey! What’s uh—that?” Jisoo stares at the stuffed toy she’s clutching.

“Oh, this?” She holds it up. “My best friend for tonight. Let me present to you… Orange!”

“Isn’t the fish in The Little Mermaid—“

“—yellow and blue? Yes, but I prefer orange, both the color and the name.” She coos at the fake fish, giving it a quick peck on the cheek while everyone stares at her. She looks up and shrugs. “What? I like fish.”

Jennie snickers and is, no doubt, about to snark up something cruel, when a girl with puppy-dog ears and a plastic nose comes up to them, hands them each a small piece of paper. She smiles gratefully at Lisa, who grins back, flicking one of her fluffy ears, before seeing Jennie, flinching, and fleeing. Rosé and Jisoo exchange a not-very-surprised look before glancing down at the paper.

“Annual Serenity High Halloween Costume Contest Ballot,” Jisoo reads. Below the title, there’s a short description of the contest and the method used to select the winners, and a handful of categories, like Most Original Costume, Scariest Costume, Best Couple Costume, and, in purposefully sloppy letters like a kindergartner’s, Least Effort.

Rosé snorts. “We know who the last award’s going to,” she says, turning to a group of boys cheering and chugging down beers, who were wearing plain white shirts with sweats and simply offered you a drink and shooed you away if you asked who they were dressed up as.

“I should’ve gone for something scarier,” Lisa complains, before nudging Rosé and saying quietly, just loud enough for her to hear, “We’re totally voting for those two for Best Couple.”

Rosé’s eyes widen. “But they’re not—“

“You’ve got to learn to read people better!” She whispers furiously, before straightening up and facing a baffled Jisoo and Jennie. “We have to go get the, uh, playlist prepared, so we’ll catch you later, okay?” She drags a confused Rosé along ( _The playlist’s perfect, I spent hours working on it, but what_ could _use some work and a lot of pushing is them. And yes, there is a them, before you start arguing—_ ), waving back and the pair, and leaves.

Jisoo decides she could clearly use better friends who don’t abandon her to become dead meat at the hands of her apparent wife, but Jennie clears her throat.

“You… knew what I was supposed to be.”

“Oh, yeah,” she says nervously. “I used to ask my mom why we couldn’t rescue our loved ones, why we couldn’t be the ones to show our love by riding horses into dangerous forests and fighting evil witches and all that. She told me I could, so I told her, all excited, that I was going to be Princess Charming and save the person I loved. Dressed up like that for Halloween that year, all the girls told me to go sit with the boys if I wanted to be one so much.”

“That’s cool. Rallying against expectations and all that. I chose this mostly because I was told I looked stunning in suits.” Jisoo agrees, but in her head, of course. Jennie looks up at her, eyes pressing. “Did it hurt, them teasing you?”

“Uh…” She looks down at her hands. “Yeah, I guess.”

Jennie smirks. “Look, here’s a life tip. You shouldn’t give a flying fuck about what other people think, say, or do about you because they all suck.”

“… Well, that’s dark. And it rhymes."

She laughs. “No, seriously. The fact that they’re bothering to say those things about you in the first place mean that they care, which means that they’re jealous, which means that you’re better than them or at least have a better life than them.” She shrugs. “It’s simple logic, honestly.”

“What about you?” Jisoo asks, then considers running herself over with a truck—which wasn’t even possible.

“Oh, sweetie.” She purses her lips, squinting, before cocking her head to the side. “As for me, it’s not difficult to be perfect when you were _born_ perfect. In fact, it’s rather hard not to be.”

Jisoo lets out a laugh, caught off guard, and Jennie raises her eyebrows.

“What?”

“It’s just…” She waves her hands in front of her. “Where do you get all that confidence?”

“Oh, I store it in a crystal jar hidden behind my bookshelf,” she says airily, before grinning. “But honestly? It’s genetic. My dad wears sunglasses in winter to business meetings, my mom has cursed at at least three quarters of my teachers throughout the years, and Taehyung—“ Jisoo notices how her voice catches on his name in a slightest, subtlest hiccup, “—I mean, look what he has on for a costume. Gosh, it’d be so embarrassing if he won Least Effort. Help me convince everyone we’re twins from different parents?”

Jisoo rolls her eyes. “You do realize that makes no sense, right?”

“What, and keeping my confidence in a jar does?” She takes a sip of her drink. “Then again, to be fair, that sounds like a decent plan.”

“Yes, whenever you feel sad or apathetic, just reach behind your bookshelf and chew on some confidence candies. They’ll boost your self-esteem to never-before imagined levels,” Jisoo says sarcastically.

“Ew, no, gummies get stuck in my teeth. I’d go with… pills. Easy to swallow but super effective. Or, um, salad, whatever,” she adds hastily.

Jisoo feels an odd wave of concern tug at her, but forces it down—after all, it wasn’t every day you enjoyed a civil—heck, _fun_ —conversation with Jennie Kim.

But it was over as swiftly as it had started, and with a quick, “I’ll see you around,” she was left alone—with the cream-colored ballot fluttering in her palms.

# ♔

The costume competition was, apparently, a big deal.

At precisely 11 p.m., everyone started to move in a certain direction, and Jisoo doesn’t even need to try to figure out where the announcements were taking place—she simply has to close her eyes and let herself be carried away by the waves—in this case, waves of sweaty, sticky people either with too much makeup on their faces or alcohol in their veins, so perhaps it wasn’t as pleasing at it sounded.

She claps, wide-eyed, as a celebrity even _she_ recognized sashays up onto the stage, holding a rhinestone-studded microphone and some authentic vampire fangs sprouting from beneath her upper lip.

Her voice booms across a multitude of high-tech speakers and equipment latched onto the ceilings and etched into the walls, making Jisoo wince. “We hope you’re having a fantastic time here, because things are about to become much more exciting. I present to you the 5th Annual Serenity High Halloween Costume Contest—whew, that’s a long name, Lisa, couldn’t you work some of your magic on it?” There’s a burst from the crowd, a mixture of polite coughing and slurred, too-loud laughs.

“Sorry, if you wanna call it Lisa’s Awesome Halloween Party, you’re welcome to do that too,” she calls back, earning her a couple drunken cheers.

“No, I think we’ll stick with this one,” she teases, and clears her throat. “So, first and foremost, we must begin with the rules.” She holds up the ballot. “You’ve all received these ballots distributed to you early on in the party, and were asked, after completion, to place them in the three ballot boxes in select locations or hand them to one of our assistants, with the floppy dog ears and wagging tails. Weren't they just _adorable_? Your vote must clearly identify which guest you chose, no Lisa Mano _bal_ s or _Lisa-with-two-ee’s_ Manobans.” She winks at Lisa, who shakes her head fake-warningly in response. “We’ve counted them once, then counted them twice—“ she sings to the tune of _Santa Claus is Coming Tonight_ , and Lisa shouts, “Save the Christmas carols for December, Yeri!” (Oh, right, her name was Yeri—she was on that dramatic telenovela… what was it called... Red Velvet?)

“Oh, please, we all know it’s Halloween then next stop, presents-ville! Thanksgiving doesn’t qualify as a full holiday,” she jokes before continuing, her voice ringing. “So we know they’re accurate. Please know that of course, people can win multiple awards in this competition—cough, cough, last year—“

“What happened last year?” Jisoo whispers to Rosé, who’s making funny faces at her stuffed fish to… well, clearly not to make her laugh—she frankly didn’t know why.

Rosé looks up. “Oh, Jennie won all the categories, the lucky bitch.”

Jisoo frowns. “What’s so great about winning anyway?”

“Wait for it,” she says cryptically before asking, “Hey, do you think I should get another fish and name it Yellow? You know, if I get a yellow one?”

Jisoo chooses to ignore her sudden and mysterious obsession with gill-possessing creatures, and turns back to Yeri.

“… So as you know, we have our gift board right here—we all know this baby is worth much more than a cheesy drumroll, but let’s hear it anyway!” There are deafening roars from the surrounding mess of students, and Jisoo winces a second time. “This year we have—“ a slideshow cues up on the large screen behind her, “—a trip on a cruise ship to the Caribbean, VIP tickets to the Taylor Swift concert happening in less than a month, a pre-order version of the new iPhone coming out soon, and, of course, the usual—vacations to Hawaii, an opportunity to taste—taste, not eat, we aren’t filthy rich, just, like, dirty rich—the most expensive dessert in the world, all that. Oh, and we did make the chances a tad slimmer this year—we have an _abundance_ of boring gifts like fur pillows and unicorn paintings in here, too,” she chortles. “Now, it’s finally time to announce the winners. Beginning with Scariest Costume—“

She rattles off a sequence of names for all sorts of strange awards, the syllables bouncing off the walls and giving Jisoo a migraine. She in no way expects to be crowned, and she’s exhilarated when it’s revealed that Lisa and Rosé are in a tie for Most Original Costume, with Lisa casually threatening all the kids that “hadn’t voted for her and voted for this redheaded, no-legged bubblehead” that she wouldn’t be inviting them next year in her acceptance speech. (Yes. There were acceptance speeches. Even more peculiar, there were _tears_. And _actual joy_ in these winners’ eyes. Jisoo was once again reminded of the severe importance of keeping your priorities the _fuck_ straight.)

Yeri taps her mic. “And now, we only have two—but the two _best_ —categories left: Best Couple and Best Overall! First off, for Best Couple _and_ Best Overall, we have... Jennie Kim, that’s no surprise—“ Jennie gives a half-smile at the crowd from the stage, already having belted several awards to add to her medal collection, “And, ooh, this is bound to be interesting, a newcomer. Jisoo Kim!”

Jisoo always knew her name was a common one, at least for Koreans, but not _that_ common. She claps, bemused, for her name-sharer to skip upstage, but she doesn’t arrive.

Eventually, after a few fleeting, awkward seconds flick by, she has no choice but to face the absolutely horrifying fact that “Jisoo Kim”—the Jisoo who’s apparently cool enough part of the “Best Couple” here along with Jennie—is her.

She hesitates.

“Oh, Yeri, I think there’s been a mistake,” Jennie says, and Jisoo’s relieved, yeah, but at the same time, her heart lurches with—disappointment? “I’d never date anyone who’d take their time to _wander_ into the spotlight,” she smirks, eyes trained on Jisoo. She flushes, probably from all the sudden attention but definitely from the slanting, piercing look Jennie’s pinned her down with.

Her arms feel too short then too long, her legs feel awkward and her hands feel lost, and she’s sure she won’t ever make it up there—but she does, and then Yeri—oh, her parents were going to be so jealous, they loved that TV show, should she get a picture, or at least an autograph—hands her a small gold trophy shaped like a neat half of a gleaming heart. She stutters a ‘thank you, although I don’t know who the heck voted for me’ (the last part was intended for no one, but of course, everyone heard it and laughed) and teeters over to Jennie, shooting a look like _what just happened?!_ to Rosé and Lisa, who are clapping loudly for her.

“You know, I’ve won this award practically every year—“ Jennie starts off, tugging out her mini silver knife from her belt and pointing at each of them in turn, “Last year with Jaden, the gorilla over there—I know, what the fuck was I thinking, besides, I had a boyfriend—then with Jungkook for a couple years, and before that, with Catherine over there back in—“ She frowns at Jisoo. “You don’t care, do you? Anyway, my point is, you’re definitely the oddest out of them.”

Jisoo rolls her eyes. “Please. I’m not _not_ like other girls. I am _exactly_ like other girls. You, on the other hand, are not.”

She frowns. “But I already know that. Didn’t you get my point earlier? My ‘I-am-better-than-others’ theory that's not really a theory because it's the truth?"

“Huh, you know, even if I hadn’t, I think you made it pretty clear now.”

“Smartass.” She clinks her trophy against hers, the jagged, heavy lines clicking together to match before breaking back apart as she takes it back. “What I was _trying_ to say is that I’ve thrown away most of these trophies—after earning the gifts, obviously—but I think I might just keep this one.”

“Uh, gee, th—“

“Bub-bub-bub,” she says, tapping Jisoo’s lips with her index finger. “Again, not my point.”

“Wow, you certainly have a lot of points—what are you, a tetradecagon?”

Jennie sighs petulantly. “Wow, Jisoo, you stun me every day with your exceptional un-exceptionality. What a normal girl you are!" She shakes her head. "My _point_ is, if you throw yours away, _I_ ’m throwing your social life out the window.”

“What a magnificent way to express that this little trophy has sentimental value for you.” She replies, holding it up and brandishing it.

“I know.” She smiles dazzlingly, before her features crumple up into a scowl. “Oh, ew, they gave the Best Overall to _Irene Bae_.”

“Why is that ew, she seems nice—“

“Yes, I know that, but _is_ she actually nice?” She snorts. “I’d say her personality is faker than her hair extensions.”

“Wait, I thought you also had hair extens—“

“Rule number one: know when to shut up.”

“I thought it was ‘don’t throw away your precious trophy.’”

“There can be two number one’s,” she says, before pinching Jisoo’s arm. “Stop trying to talk back to me, they’re starting the gift raffle.”

“You know, it’s not really a raffle if—“

“Rule number one,” she hisses.

“Don’t throw away my trophy?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Ah, that rule.” She smiles back innocently as Jennie glares at her.

Jisoo can’t figure out which is louder—the sound of Yeri’s heels clacking on the floor or her booming voice. “So! Kicking off today’s raffle with, well, who would like to go first?”

“Me,” Jennie calls out, and she walks forward, tugging Jisoo behind, and quickly reaches into the huge bowl filled to the brim with plastic balls, emerging with five of them clutched in her hands. “A little help here?” She says to Jisoo, who takes three of the balls from her eagerly, trying to peer inside, but stops when she earns a reprimanding gaze from Jennie. (She wants to stick her tongue out at her, honestly, but she refrains from doing it. Oh, she was so mature, she was practically an adult.) (Or, you know, not.)

“Uh, I have 61, 4, 29, 57, and 1,” she tells Yeri, who scans her chart.

“61, you get a bundle of notebooks—cheap ones, totally not designer, sorry. 4, ooh, one of the two tickets for Hawaii, uh… 29, a water bottle—again, not high-end, just your boring old Dasani—57 is a pet kitten, that’s sick—er, I meant that that’s cool, not that the cat’s sick—and 1—let me just—“ she whoops, “—you also get a pet bunny!”

Jennie looks like she just stepped on a pile of horse dung, and Jisoo tries not to laugh. “Better luck next year,” she mutters as Yeri hands her the papers for each of the presents.

Jisoo pokes her shoulder. “Bunnies are cool!”

She whips around. “Sorry, did you just say you wanted to keep my bunny?”

“Uh…” Her parents were going to be furious. “Sure.”

“Great. Give me one of your presents and it’s a done deal.”

“I only have one present!”

“Oh.” She makes a face. “Fine.”

“So, Jisoo, are you going to choose next?” Yeri chimes in, and Jisoo shuffles forward, grabs a ball that seems to slide into her palm, praying for luck. “I got, er, 42.”

“42, that’s… oh my GOD, this canNOT be a coincidence!” She squeals, and Jisoo wonders how on Earth she was a television persona with _such an annoying voice_. “You get the other ticket for Hawaii!” She turns to face the crowd. “Guess what? Our favorite couple is going on their _honeymoon_!”

“A honeymoon is when people get married,” Jisoo corrects, reaching out to angle the microphone to her and quiet the noisy, stomping crowd.

“ _Whaaat?_ Did you hear that, everyone? They’re getting m—“

“Lisa, I will pay you ten grand to get this woman fired. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Jennie says haughtily, but with a hint of a laugh in her tone, before clacking down the stairs and off the stage.

“I’ll uh—“ Jisoo bites her lip. “Bye.”

Jennie, thankfully, has stopped just around the corner, shaking her head and scrolling through her phone. She addresses Jisoo without looking up. “Mom or dad?”

“Um, what?”

“Mom, or dad,” she repeats, in that condescending way of hers.

“Could you at least tell me why you’re asking?”

“Because we go to Hawaii practically once in every two months, idiot.” She flips her phone over and pulls the crumpled ticket out from the case, passing it over to her. “Most teenagers would go with a friend, but you really aren’t most teenagers. I figured you’d want one of your parents to come.”

“No, I—“

“She’s not accepting your hand-me-downs,” Taehyung calls out, striding towards them with his hands in his pockets. (Jisoo never got that. Not only did it make you seem not like a cool guy, but a loser trying to _seem_ like a cool guy, it also did not help with her balance.) (Taehyung certainly didn’t seem to have any issues, though. Maybe you just had to a) be a cool guy and b) not be a total klutz.)

“Whatever,” Jennie retorts, and gives the ticket a little shake in Jisoo’s direction. “You’re really not taking it?”

She shakes her head. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You realize that that translates to ‘please come with me to Hawaii’.”

“… Take out the please and we’ll be all good.”

“Yeah, right,” she says, but takes it back and stuffs it in her purse. “I’ll book the hotel, you just show up. Don’t even pack, I couldn’t ever be seen in public with someone who’s wearing anything non-Chanel. And I mean that literally—they’re relying heavily on me as an ambassador.” She flutters a wave and heads out the back doors, not even bothering to shrug on a jacket despite the cold.

Taehyung walks up to her, eyebrows raised. “You’re really willing to spend a week with her in Hawaii, and not just because she’s a charity case?”

She snorts. “My recent conversations with just about everyone would suggest that the charity case here is not our honorable _queen_ —or should I say prince—but instead, yours truly.”

“If it wasn’t for her money, looks, and bitchy personality, she’d be—“

“Back in elementary school?”

He knits his eyebrows. “Sorry, did you attend the same elementary school as us without me ever seeing you? Sounds like I've committed a sin."

“Nope.” She looks up at him smugly. “Jungkook told me all about you two.”

He does a double-take, before coughing and recovering—or, you know, trying to. He brushes his bangs out of his eyes nervously. “He—uh—why?”

“Because Rosé had to cover for you two, dummy. And I was just lucky enough to be there to listen.” She nudges his side. “But hey, I want to hear it from your point of view.”

“Sure,” he agrees amicably, and spread his arms out. “Jennie’s a bitch, and Jungkook and I are not.”

“Oh, please. If you tell me, I’ll tell you everything he said about you.”

“Huh. Tempting.” He pats her shoulder. “You finally know how to make a good bargain.”

“It must not be that good if you’re not taking it,” she says, tapping her foot against the floor and pretending to be annoyed.

“Fine. He’s just… okay, you know how in rom-coms, the nerdy girl always earns a happily ever after with a hot playboy jock who realizes she’s the one who makes him laugh and not some preppy cheerleader?” She nods. “And those other type of rom-coms where the couple is a pair of best friends who understand each other perfectly and seamlessly—“

Her eyes sparkle, and she starts singing, “—Ooh, we finish each other’s—“

“—Sandwiches, yes, yes. I can’t believe you’re making a Frozen reference in the middle of a very important _adult_ conversation. “ She rolls her eyes. ”And so they try to stay away from each other but end up falling for each other in the end, right?” He smothers a grin. “Well, he’s like both of those guys. Crazy hot _and_ sweet.”

“That’s… cute.” She frowns. “But you must’ve watched a lot of rom-coms.”

“Nah, the credit goes entirely to Jennie.”

Jisoo tilts her head. “She never struck me as the rom-com type. I don’t know if it’s the romantic part, or the comedy part, or both. Probably both.”

He laughs. “She swears she isn’t anymore, that she’s stopped believing in sexist fairy tales a decade ago. But I definitely caught her watching _Sleepless in Seattle_ in her bed last month.”

“What a liar.”

“Is she anything else but that?"

“I guess I’ll find out after Hawaii.” She pauses. “Hey, can you come?”

He pulls a face. “On a trip with Jennie? No thanks. Actually, scratch the thanks, just no. I’m insulted and not at all grateful that you’d even suggest that.”

“ _Please?_ "

“Please in that tone has always irritated the hell out of me and never once convinced me.”

“Please!” She shouts demandingly, in a not-at-all pleading way.

“And please in that tone has now damaged my hearing.” He sighs, rubbing his ear. “Fine. But if I join, there’ll be more people coming, for sure, are you okay with that?”

She shrugs. “A trip with Jennie with lots of other people to distract me is a step up from a trip with Jennie with nothing but my stupid old and thus constantly malfunctioning iPhone to distract me.”

“When’s the flight?”

“Uh…” She checks the details. “Oh, shit, it’s Thanksgiving break?”

He grins. “I knew it. Rich people couldn’t care less about actual holiday spirit, just for keeping up family appearances. Jennie and I’ll most likely pose for some pictures before leaving dressed up in festive gear, and we’ll be set to fly off to the Pacific but uh—will you be fine?”

“I’ll find out soon enough,” she mutters, glancing down at her phone to see dozens of texts coming in from her parents.

"Oh, hey, right, so you were going to tell me what Jungkook said about me," he says casually enough, but with a dose of anticipation.

"I'm not your cupid, lover boy. Go ask him yourself," she says cheerfully, watching his mouth drop open in indignation, before slipping out through the doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh! It's been so long since I updated and I'm glad to be back. So school is back in full swing (well, maybe not full swing just yet) and that's always a crazy affair, especially nowadays. I hope everyone's having a great time back and staying safe—masks, hand washing, social distancing, anything and everything we need to do! Also wanted to add that I love Yeri and Irene so so much, they're amazing and talented and beautiful and in no way actually related to these characters :)


	8. pretty soon i'll be getting on my first plane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fish fly among flowers according to Jennie's (horrible) taste in dresses, clothes hangers are apparently a big deal, and Jisoo's 99.96% sure Theo has weights stuffed in the right arm of his suit.

“The flight is at noon,” Jisoo repeats in disbelief.

“Yes,” Rosé replies, exasperated. “And you aren’t an echo, so you can stop saying that.”

“Noon,” she says quietly, shaking her head. She looks down at her watch sadly. “And I woke up—make that was rudely awaken—at 4:45a.m.”

“And you should be grateful that I had the compassion to make sure you got here!" Rosé exclaims.

"Compassion," Jisoo mutters darkly.

"Okay, I _know_ we’re early, I _said_ you could stop telling me that—“

Suddenly, mid-sentence, Rosé chokes on her pale red drink with two fancy floating cherries gracing the rim of the glass. Jisoo leans forward in concern, stretching out an arm to pat her back while she keeps coughing and hacking, and turns around to see what prompted this reaction.

She proceeds to choke on thin air.

“She’s, um.” Taehyung arrives in front of them and shoves his hands into his pockets in resignation. He looks down at Jisoo’s eyes and shrugs. “Mad.”

Rosé hums her assent tentatively, looking like she was torn between bursting out laughing and running away screaming.

“Absolutely bonkers,” Jungkook lets out, sinking onto the couch in the seat next to Jisoo and grabbing her drink from the table. He takes a sip and makes a face. “You’re drinking _water_?” Another. “And it’s not even sparkling.” He slides it back in distaste.

“Now I have to get another straw, dumbass,” Jisoo retorts.

He winks cheekily. “But do you really?”

She rolls her eyes and takes the plastic straw out of the glass and tosses it to him, and he pouts in response. She ignores him.

“I think it’s a crime there isn’t a red carpet for her to walk down on,” Lisa announces as she flutters into the crowd, her enormous, pink cheetah-print suitcase forming a contrast with her willowy frame. She’s decked an ivory dress with blue daisies printed on the sleeves that’s all sheer fabric and ruffles, and the mesh of her skirt flutters in the breeze.

“I think her _dress_ is a crime,” Taehyung remarks loudly as Jennie, quickly pausing to adjust the shoulder straps of her dress, crashes onto the plush velvet seat at the front of the group.

“Oh, please,” she says simply, and takes turns swiftly glancing around at everyone, daring them to say anything more about her dress. Jisoo takes advantage of that brief moment to let her eyes trail down the absolute… spectacle. Her straps consisted of narrow stripes of various colors, ranging from dark navy to bright orange and forest-green, complete with a strange wavy shape tracing the edges. Then, at the top of the bodice, there were six evenly spaced yellow dots, like a talented chef had squirted mustard on the fabric with immense precision, and below that, a crazy explosion of flowers were splayed like fireworks on New Year’s Eve—tulips, roses, dandelions, there was even a carnivorous flytrap, Jisoo realized with a shudder. The waist was cinched with two peculiar white squiggles, leading the way to more haphazard flowers, butterflies, and—fish?

“Why the hell are there fish among the flowers?” Jisoo wonders out loud.

Jennie smiles. “Why wouldn’t there be?”

Jisoo gives her a look, but continues making her way down the dress, trying her best to ignore the dolphins leaping from trees. (She’d stopped convincing herself that all made sense.) There are two more similar squiggles in red and turquoise, each reminding her of ketchup on hot dogs and lapping waves at a beach, and there are five parrots banging drums and shaking tambourines adorning the flounce. She finally looks up, thoroughly amused.

She nods firmly. “Taehyung’s right. You _are_ mad.”

Jennie, instead of appearing the slightest bit angry, sips her newly acquired drink peacefully. “You think so? So soon?"

Jisoo looks over and sees Taehyung looking like he wanted to dig himself into a ditch and never come out to face the world again as Jennie starts to rummage in her no doubt incredibly expensive bag. Lisa peers at her curiously over her huge, gold-rimmed sunglasses (Jisoo actually isn’t sure if the sunglasses are big or Lisa’s head is tiny) and Rosé glances over in interest. Jungkook snorts, seeming to anticipate what was coming, and takes another stolen sip of Jisoo’s water.

Jisoo’s mouth slowly drops open as Jennie emerges, preening with contentment, with a straw hat whose brim is twice as wide as her shoulders in her hands. There’s a thick black ribbon looped around it, tied in a loose bow at the front. She places it on her head and gives it a small tilt.

“Don’t be so surprised,” she says plainly.

# ♔

“It’s um…”

Jisoo stares across the vast, open room at the stunning view, all long stretches of sand and splashes of vivid blue and green of the ocean in awe, her mouth open.

“It’s Jungkook’s uncle’s,” Rosé says cheerfully. “They’re rivals with my cousin’s company.”

Jisoo hesitates for a beat before saying, “Uncle’s… hotel room?”

“Yes,” Lisa pipes in, dragging her suitcase into the room with surprising ease and pushing her sunglasses onto her forehead, her skin glowing underneath the sun from the floor-length windows. “If you make that hotel room _s_ , plural, and add in the pools, spa, fitness center, bar, restaurants, and—“

“Her point is that he owns the hotel,” Taehyung interrupts, patting a baffled Jisoo on the back consolingly.

“Oh.” Jisoo wisely chooses to stop talking, and she simply follows the rest of them as they open the other doors of their three rooms, grousing about how small they are (Jisoo is pretty sure the bathrooms alone could fit Jisoo’s family’s whole apartment inside). Suddenly, Jennie asks her, completely out of nowhere again with her signature bluntness, “Window or bathroom?”

“What?”

“Pay attention, dummy. This is our room, 3304.” She motions her in, and gestures vaguely towards the bed. “As you can see, one’s near the window and the other’s near the bathroom.” She holds up a card key. “Rosé and Lisa have now decided that they are suddenly besties and as much as both my brother and my boyfriend seem to adore you, I’m pretty sure they’d prefer sleeping with each other over sleeping with you.” She pauses. “Sleeping as in slumbering, of course, nothing else,” she adds sunnily.

Jisoo holds back a laugh. “Okay, then, uh, window, please.”

Jennie snorts. “ _Please?_ Please, you sound like you’re at a restaurant.” She glances at her, strands of hair falling from her ponytail and her huge hat sinking down almost to her eyes. “You can start unpacking and setting things up, and remember that I have way more clothes than you do so I get to use more hangers in the closet.” She looks back at her. "Is that clear?"

“Oh… kay. Yeah. Sure.”

She nods briefly, and looks down at her outfit in thought. “You know, I am getting somewhat bored of shocking the living hell out of everyone. I’m heading out to meet some people in a few, so feel free to hang out here. You don’t have to worry about me barging in you changing or taking a shower or whatever.” She smirks. “At least not today.”

# ♔

“Honey, if you don’t want people to stare at you, I suggest you stop pulling up your top,” Rosé offers to Jisoo, who glares at her but places her hands in her laps, trying to ignore how sweaty her palms are. She shoots fleeting glances at different parts of the dimly lit, elegant bar, broken glimpses of couples leaning forward and bearded men clinking glasses flashing in front of her. She forces herself to look down at her drink. Water again—it was sparkling, at least. Besides, Jungkook could go fuck himself. (Whoops. She was starting to sound like… like, well, the ridiculously rich people she had, for some reason, chosen to come on this trip with.)

“And remember that the only reason we’re here is because of Jungkook’s uncle, _not_ because we’re of age,” Lisa chimes in, her voice bubbly like the peach-tinted champagne she’s drinking. “He hates liars. So if anyone asks, that’s what we answer, not some bullshit that we’re twenty-somethings looking to have a fun time. I learned this the hard way last year."

Jisoo knits her eyebrows. “Isn’t his uncle—“

“Technically my uncle? Yeah, but we try to keep our families apart, at least in our heads. It makes it easier when we want to avoid sending birthday presents to relatives or, more often, attending events in their name.”

“Oh.” Jisoo shuts up, having stopped trying to understand the World of the Hotel-Owners, and decides to focus on the mellow music instead. But something—someone, actually—catches her attention, and the drink she’d just taken a large sip of seems to burn and sting her throat at the sight of Jennie, and it’s probably not because she’s developed a certain fondness for Jungkook and feels bad staring at his girlfriend brushing another guy’s perfect brunette bangs out of his forehead in her waffle-knit tank top and purple cardigan.

Rosé laughs. “Lisa, should we tell your brother about his girlfriend cheating or do we think he’s too busy with…?” She trails off, the question mark lingering teasingly in the air, and Lisa snorts and shakes her head, leaning back against her seat.

“Like he’d care,” she replies, swirling her straw. “And of course he’s busy, uh…” She leaves off mid-sentence again, the obvious lack of a mystery in the rest of it seeming to make her laugh.

“So he just really doesn’t care?” Jisoo asks, wanting more than anything to tear her eyes from the scene splayed out in front of her, just a couple yards away. “That’s… I mean, why are they even together then?”

Lisa gives her a look, before wrapping her in a lazy hug and pulling her close. “My sweet baby, you’re a tad too innocent for your own good,” she coos, and Jisoo rolls her eyes and pushes her away.

Rosé tuts, tilting her head back to finish the rest of her drink and setting it down with a satisfied sigh. “Think Jennie Kim. Why would she be in a relationship that doesn’t have any sort of romance or even communication—“

“—or _even_ any kind of physical gain from it?” Lisa winks as Jisoo blanches. “I had to put that out there.”

“Uh…” Jisoo finally manages to look away from Jennie, and glances into Lisa’s curious, playful eyes, then Rosé’s slightly fazed ones. She shrugs. “Sorry I’m not tarnished enough to know.”

“Don’t worry,” Lisa smiles affectionately, hugging her around her waist. “You have the rest of high school and beyond to be influenced by the twisted tactics and pure cruelty of the ultra-rich and ultra-elite!”

“Oh, wow, I feel so blessed,” she says sarcastically, but a small part of her thinks it wouldn’t be that bad—well, the whole shopping obsession and mind games she definitely would be more than happy to leave behind, but with Lisa’s arms wrapped stubbornly around her and Rosé starting to sing nursery rhymes under her breath, clearly drunk, she struggles to fight a grin. Then she remembers that she doesn't know the answer yet.

“But what’s the answer? You know, to the question you just asked about, um, Jennie?”

“Oh. That?” Lisa frowns. “My, for a straight-A student, you’re dense as fuck. Jennie’s the kind of person who would rather suffer than see others, particularly people she hates or wants to pull revenge on, happy. She doesn’t want Jungkook but she wouldn’t be able to stand him happily walking around with Taehyung, so she ties herself to him—even if that means locking herself down, as long as he’s not getting what he wants either, she’s content.” She tilts her head, holding up her hand to get another bottle. “But then again, I think she’s… giving it up now. Letting them be.” She laughs. “It’s not like she expected them to stay six feet apart when she agreed to chuck them in the same room.”

“Oh,” Jisoo answers quietly, not knowing what to think, not knowing if it would be fair to make up her mind, to form an opinion, based on how little she knew and how narrow of a view she had.

“And the lucky bitch gets to make out with that hunk of a guy,” Rosé complains, tugging at the strands of her hair and slouching on the table. "Not to mention that while I despise his guts—no offense Lisa, not that you'd take any—Jungkook is not anywhere near objectively bad-looking."

"Let's agree to disagree on that," Lisa counters. “Are they kissing yet? Or better yet, have they disappe—ugh, no, they’re still talking.” Lisa huffs. “We’ll see how long that goes on. My bet’s on less than five more minutes.”

“Hell no. She must be jet-lagged, we got here, what, a few hours ago?” Rosé checks her watch. “I’m shocked she hasn’t already passed out.”

“Says you,” Lisa says, holding out her hand and pulling her phone out of her purse. “I’m starting the timer for five minutes. What’s your bet, Chae?”

“Erm…” She lets out a soft _hmm_. “Ten to twenty minutes max.”

She turns to Jisoo, after pressing the start button on her screen. “And would our pure angel like to participate?”

“Um... what are we betting?”

“Oh, hmm…” Lisa pauses, then her face lights up with an idea, her eyes landing somewhere across the room. “Whoever wins gets to go up to that guy over there, near the door, in the suit, with full support from the other two.”

“Hell yes,” Rosé says enthusiastically. “I bet his name’s, like, Theo. Short for Theodore. He totally looks like one.”

Lisa holds out a hand to stop her. “You can figure out for yourself if you win, but if you don’t, he’s off limits.” Lisa nudges Jisoo. “So?”

“I say…” She shoots another look at Jennie, and she swears she looks back at her with a ghost of a smirk. “Thirty minutes or longer.”

“Of course, I’d expect nothing less from you, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes,” Lisa says grandly, and glances down at her phone and groans. “Shoot, looks like I’m not going to be planting kisses along Theo’s sculpted jawline anytime soon. There’s only thirty seconds left and they don’t even look remotely turned on yet.”

“Thanks for the tip, I’ll make sure to keep it in mind when I make my way over to Theo,” Rosé drawls, confident, and holds out a hand. “Hand the phone over.”

The five minutes are soon up, and Lisa glares daggers at Jennie. “It used to take her less than _three damn minutes_ to shoot off with a guy at company events and charity balls, and now this? What a betrayal,” she laments. She looks over at Jisoo. “Based on the way things are progressing—and by progressing I mean _not progressing_ —I think you have a pretty good shot, surprisingly.”

Jisoo coughs. She’d be lying if she said she was looking forward to tangling her fingers in Theo’s golden locks or whatever. (She would also not be telling the complete truth if she said she thought he was anywhere near as hot as, er, Jennie. For example. Just an example.) “Thanks.”

“Please, Jennie, make a goddamn move,” Rosé moans, anxiously checking the seconds left. “This is not the time to take things slow, or, God forbid, learn the meaning of platonic friendship.” Jisoo doesn’t dare say it out loud, but she’s also praying for Rosé to win so that she doesn’t have to force herself through what will no doubt be a very awkward conversation and, if it leads to it, which she truly hopes it won’t, makeout session.

But Jennie remains perfectly still in her chair, even as the guy touches her shoulder and taps her leg with his and brushes her hand gently. And Jisoo refuses to delve deeper into why that makes her relieved.

“Fuck, there’s only one more minute ’til twenty,” Rosé grouses. “I want to go and push her onto his lap or him onto her lap or something, anything to get them going, is that allowed?” She gives her best puppy-dog eyes to Lisa, who responds with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Not really, but then again, why not, go ahead. If you have the audacity.”

Rosé proceeds to stew in her seat until she grudgingly passes her phone over to Jisoo, who accepts it reluctantly.

Lisa glances at the fancy, intricate clock hanging on the wall near them, and pokes Jisoo’s shoulder. “It’s pretty obvious you’re going to win now, so some quick dating tips. Chae, you want to go first?”

“What? Oh.” She thinks for a moment. “Theo looks dumb. Dumb guys don’t like smart girls unless they’re nice, which Theo, sadly, does not seem to be by the way he just shoved his poor friend’s face into an ice bucket.” She frowns. “And is laughing at him now. Okay, maybe I don’t want him as much as I thought.” She turns to Jisoo, grinning devilishly. “Anyway, my point is, you don’t have to act overly vacant or vacuous or vacuum cleaner or whatever the hell the word is—“

“—wow, Rosie, it's obviously vacuum cleaner—”

“—but don’t like, show off. Even if it’s about something stupid like your looks or your parents’ car. Guys hold a shit ton of pride in their big-ass egos.”

Jisoo shudders, peering at the guy with doubt clouding her face. “I mean... I’m not trying to form an actual connection with him anyway, am I?”

Lisa shrugs. “Your choice, honestly, but yeah, he doesn’t seem like the type. Just…” She takes a bite of a small cookie, savoring it. “Think of him as a stepping stone to your future career as a serial heartbreaker!”

“Right. Because that’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of being since I was four.”

Rosé snorts. “I mean, my grandmother used to tell me to marry rich in case my father went broke when I was still sleeping in cribs and wearing diapers, so it’s never too early. Speaking of early—“ She looks down at the phone in Jisoo’s hands. “You win, dammit. Have fun messing with Theo, and do tell me his real name when you get back.” She picks up a strawberry macaron and pops it into her mouth, groaning at the delicious taste. She meets Jisoo's gaze and sits up. “What?”

Jisoo bites her lip. “Um, is it alright if I _don’t_ , er, claim my prize?” Theo and his mates seem to be talking about sports or something, judging from the way they’re shouting numbers and last names and all sorts of obscenities—and frankly, not only is Jisoo scared, she feels physically sick at the thought of approaching the lot.

Lisa’s mouth drops open in horror, and she starts to talk, when Rosé speaks first.

“If it’s because you’re nervous, I can go with you. And I’ll… I don’t know, the guy who he shoved into the bucket looks cute. Even though he’s soaking wet now.” She shrugs. “I can talk to him and hook you up with Theo,” she offers, and Jisoo truly admires her at that moment, even though she was kind of the reason she was faced with this challenge in the first place. And she decides maybe she does need a friend like Rosé. And that maybe she should go talk to Theo. (Talk. Not anything else or more. A girl could hope.)

Lisa says she’s had about enough of the place and is going to take a hot, steamy bath back up in her room, to which Rosé complains weakly that the bath water will take forever to drain, to which Lisa simply retorts, "Too bad." She heads back up after stuffing herself full with the pastries, and when she's gone, Rosé turns to Jisoo, mischief buzzing around her. She rubs her hands together excitedly. “So, are you ready?”

“No, but is that going to stop you?”

“You know me too well.”

She grabs Jisoo’s wrist and half-drags an already frightened, pale Jisoo over to the table near the entrance. “Hi, mind if we join you guys?”

Theo—or, more explicitly, the guy Jisoo was supposed to be, or at least act, interested in—looks up, and a lazy grin stretches across his sharp features. “Of course. I’m Theo, this is—“Jisoo misses the rest of the names (it wasn’t like they mattered anyway, and it also wasn’t like she’d be able to tell them apart, with their identical styled hair and cashmere sweaters) trying to hold back her laughter at the fact that his name was actually Theo. Apparently, she must’ve appeared suspicious to Theo, or at least a bit strange, because he leans forward and catches her eye. “And you are?”

“Um. Hi. Hey,” she says, wanting nothing more than to punch herself, “I’m Jisoo.”

“Okay, nice to meet you, Jisoo,” he says, and she has no idea how he does it, but he says it so wonderfully condescendingly. The next thing she knows, she’s sitting right next to him, thighs pressed, fingers touching, and planning Lisa and Rosé’s demise furiously.

Rosé toys with the conversation with expected ease, her hair fanning around her slender frame and her voice turning heads until Jisoo’s certain she’s captivated every guy, not just at the table, but at the bar. Except for damn _Theo_ , who keeps offering her peculiar drinks and asking her horrifically bad questions like "What do you think of me?" (She narrowly escapes answering that one.) Just then, he slings his arm around her shoulders and Jisoo flinches. Thankfully, he’s too busy engaged in yelling about football (Jisoo only figures that out because she hears the word quarterback, which she only remembers because Jungkook kept poking her on the plane to tell her about his triumphs as one freshman year) (she would really like to know why he thought she’d be remotely intrigued) to notice.

A couple minutes later, when some guys leave to get more drinks, she quickly jumps at the chance and says she’s going to go freshen up. Theo’s extremely and oddly heavy arm takes some work to get off her, but she manages it, and she practically sprints to the bathroom—and she stops in the middle of pushing the door open. She quickly debates if she can slip out before—

Jennie’s looks up and sees her. She’s perched next to one of the sinks, gathering her hair to tie it up in a bun.

“Hope his arm wasn’t squashing your poor shoulders,” she says casually, and Jisoo nearly does a double-take.

She takes a breath, and replies calmly, “I, uh… thanks for your concern, but no, I’m fine.”

“Are you, though?” She asks, and takes some hairpins from her pouch and slides them into her hair, fixing chunks of them in place. She glances at her before turning back to the mirror. “Even if you are now, it’s getting pretty late. Guys like him will probably like to get started early.”

Started early on _what_ is what rises up her throat, but she pushes it down, touching her neck self-consciously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jennie gives her a look and returns to her pin-fixing.

“What about the guy _you_ were with?” Jisoo blurts out.

She raises an eyebrow. “So I wasn’t the only one spying.” She clicks the final pin in place, and examines herself in the mirror closely, before pulling out a shiny gold tube of lipstick. “I ditched him, but I’ll bet you a million bucks he’s still out there waiting.” She pauses to roll out the tube, and leans forward to color in her lips. “I don’t know, if he is, that is honestly kind of sweet of him, right? Who knows, I might play around for another hour or two before heading back up.”

Jisoo feels sick again, and she has no clue why.

“What about you? Do you mind if I use the shower first or are you going to take my advice and ditch Sir Pretty Blond Curls?”

She hesitates, before letting out a breath, strangely determined to ask: “Why do you care, though?”

Jennie takes a moment to respond. “About what?”

“I mean, both Rosé and Lisa _want_ me to go snag that guy or whatever. Practice makes perfect and the value of experience and all that. So why do you think I shouldn’t? Or—“ she hesitates, but plows ahead, “—why are you _telling_ me I shouldn’t?”

Jennie slowly slides her lipstick back into the tube and slips it into her pouch before looking up. She looks almost… thoughtful. She hops off her seat and starts to head out, and her hand on the doorknob, she looks at her, piercing dark eyes and flaring red lips and petal-coated cheeks and all. “I don’t know. Why do you think I am?”

And she tilts her head, and she leaves, and Jisoo stands there, all thoughts of Theo with his suit and Rosé with her heels flying out her head, and stares and stares at the spot where Jennie stood, confused and certain all at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly can't believe it's been months since I updated! Turns out even online school can take up significant chunks of your time. I'll definitely be trying to post lots of chapters over the holidays, and I hope all of you have the best Christmas ever. And if anyone's name is Theo—know that I only chose the name because I liked it ;))  
> A not-so-merry side note would be that I also can't believe it's been nearly a year since the pandemic began, and the realization that things won't be getting better anytime soon is something I've definitely been grappling with. These words have probably been said so many times already, but let's all believe that all of this is going to end, because after all, all things have an end.  
> Stay warm, healthy, and hydrated (seriously, a cup of water makes not everything, but a lot of things, better) <3


	9. and nothing's wrong, when nothing's true

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo wonders if chicken and waffles are truly worth her self-control and considers buying a lottery ticket just to get Theo and his strange tastes off her back—but it turns out she doesn't need it. All she needed was Jennie. (Wait. That came out wrong.) (Or did it?)

“Lisa, that Theo guy is a _dick_ ,” Jisoo fires off, taking off her heels before the door has even shut closed, slamming the stack of card keys a drunk, slurring Rosé had slipped to her when she’d announced she was leaving, furious, onto the counter to her left. “The _instant_ I refuse to take off all my clothes, he turns all sober and frustrated and angry and leaves, the _asshole_.” She throws her purse onto the plush couch, taking off her dangling diamond earrings (courtesy of Rosé) swiftly, and keeps fuming. “He wasn’t even a good kisser. Well, okay, I don’t have anyone to compare it to, but I’m pretty sure kissing isn’t supposed to feel like a huge dog licking your face and then shoving its tongue down your throat.” She shudders, and slips off the shining rings on her fingers, letting them clatter onto the glass table to her front. “He wasn’t even that cute. He plays _football_ , for God’s sake, I should’ve known. I should’ve shoved my /shoe/ down his throat, and by the way, this shoe was a _beast_ , maybe even worse than Theo—“ Someone snorts, and her senses freeze.

That most definitely had not been Lisa.

She turns around slowly, not daring to breathe.

“Yeah, you should’ve,” agrees a guy leaning against the backboard of the bed, his legs crossed languidly, a teasing smile hanging on his lips. Thankfully, Lisa’s sitting right next to him, her long legs splayed across his and her hair tied up in a towel. She snickers.

“I’m sorry—er—did I interrupt you? Sorry, I can be clueless, I just thought, you know, Lisa would be here, which she is, but—“

“Relax, Jisoo,” Lisa laughs. “I just met him in the elevator up to my room and invited him in.” She gives her a pointed look. “And no, we weren’t making out.”

“Or licking each other’s faces.” The guy chimes in, and Jisoo glares at him.

He smiles back.

“Oh, shut up, poor Jisoo’s had enough trauma for the day,” Lisa says, punching the guy’s shoulder lightly. “Jisoo, this is Jimin. He’s a couple rooms over.” She gestures Jisoo over, and she takes a couple small steps towards the bed, glancing suspiciously at Jimin. “Jimin, this is Jisoo. She’s on this trip with me and usually not this mad.”

“Hi,” Jimin says, the picture of friendliness, and sticks out a hand.

“Um. Hello,” she says, and shakes it awkwardly. A few beats pass, with Jimin smirking loftily and Lisa looking close to the verge of laughter and Jisoo running her fingers through her hair on repeat. Finally, Jisoo opens her mouth. “Lisa, why did you—“

“So, tell me—“

Jimin laughs. “You can go first.”

“Well.” She hesitates. “You do realize, Lisa, that _I met him in the elevator_ is not a good enough excuse for inviting someone into your room.” She ignores Jimin pretending to be offended. It seemed that she was surrounded by drama queens and kings everywhere she went.

Lisa shrugs. “It makes plenty sense to me.”

“But you don’t do this every day, do you?” Jisoo asks, slightly hysterically.

“Don’t worry, Jimin’s special.” Jisoo blinks, then peers at Jimin for any signs of his so-called uniqueness. Other than the fact that he hasn’t stopped smiling like he knows all her secrets since she entered the room, she sees nothing interesting. “He’s a dancer! And I dance, hello?” She pauses. “And his mother owns a huge restaurant chain, so we met at some charity event as kids, but that doesn’t matter. Unless you absolutely adore chicken and waffles, which I don’t, talk about a repulsive duo.” Jimin’s mouth drops open in feigned shock. She pats the spot next to her. “Come join.”

“Uh.” She briefly wonders how rich people always managed to locate each other and, more importantly, why she was always dragged into their conversations.

Lisa rolls her eyes. “Jimin isn’t going to bite. Right?”

Jimin nods cheerfully. Jisoo eyes him apprehensively some more, before cautiously perching on the edge of the bed. Lisa drags her over towards them by pulling on the back of her top, and Jisoo groans but complies.

Jimin scoots forward to look at her properly. “What brings you here? I was told you had a separate room.” Jisoo wonders how much Lisa has told this supposed stranger who dances in the span of what, an hour?

Lisa’s eyes widen mischievously. “Let me guess. Is _Jennie_ making out in her bed? With the cute brunette?”

“What? No!” Jisoo says, before pausing, her mind short-circuiting to her confusing exchange with the girl. “I mean. She probably is, after all, she said she was, just not in our room. Well, actually, I wouldn’t know that either, since I came straight here, after—“

“Theo transformed into a hungry dog?” Jimin finishes helpfully, and Jisoo wonders if connecting her fist to his innocent face would harm the chances of her obtaining a free waffle, chicken leg, or both. She decides not to test out the theory.

“Well. Yes,” she replies.

“Sorry, hon. I promise I won’t force you to go make out with some random hot dude anymore.” Lisa frowns. “You know, that really is not the punishment you think it is, 'Soo.”

Jisoo waves her hand in the air. “Whatever. I have to go back to my room soon anyway to shower and change, so let’s just hope Jennie’s, er—“

“Not having sex in the sheets you’ll be sleeping under?” Lisa says, grinning. Jisoo throws a pillow at her, shaking her head violently to clear her head, but she dodges it. “But what do you mean she _said_ she was going to make out with him? Did you meet her?”

“What?” Jisoo suddenly looks down at her hands, feeling both Lisa and Jimin’s gazes on her. “Yeah. In the bathroom, maybe about thirty minutes ago?”

Lisa knits her eyebrows. “But what did you even talk about? Jennie despises small talk, we all know that much.”

“She um… insulted Theo.” Lisa tilts her head, nodding at her to continue. “And told me to break off whatever thing I was pushing for with him.”

“ _Interesting._ ” Lisa says, dragging out the word and tapping her bottom lip with her index finger.

Jisoo holds her breath for a second before letting it out quickly. “Er, is it?”

“Yes,” she responds simply, and stretches out her arms. “But not of much concern to us right now. Want Jimin to take you back to your room and make sure there’s no one messing around? We’ve got to go to bed soon if we want to be up in time for the breakfast buffet tomorrow morning. I heard it's going to be killer.”

Jisoo looks over at Jimin, who meets her gaze with sparkling eyes.

“I really appreciate the offer, but I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she answers.

Jimin snorts. “Don’t be mean. I’m literally right across the hallway from your room anyway.”

She stares at him. “Stalker.”

His mouth falls open in indignation. “I am insulted. I just saw you and this Jennie—whose dress was quite the fashion item, by the way—coming up with all your stuff earlier today.”

Jisoo rolls her eyes. “Well, good night, Lisa. I’m sure Jimin will follow me out anyway so no worries about me getting back to my room safe.”

“The girl gets me already,” Jimin says approvingly, before sliding off the bed and looking at Jisoo to gather her things. Jisoo sighs but marches out to the sitting room to grab her purse and jewelry, and stuffs her bruised feet into the beastly heels. She turns back. “You coming?”

“You bet,” Jimin replies.

# ♔

Jisoo didn’t know spooning roasted potatoes and scrambled eggs onto her plate could ever hold so much tension.

Well, to be fair, it wasn’t her fault. It was someone— _two_ someones, in fact—else’s fault. She gripped the handle of the ladle tightly as she poured clam chowder into a small plastic bowl, careful not to spill a drop, and even more careful not to glance around her and sense any more of the crackling tautness dancing in the air.

She’s about to back away and scurry back to her table, when a hand taps her on her back. She whips around, her soup sloshing over and splashing on what she could immediately tell were very expensive shoes. She looks up, pained, already plainly knowing who they belonged to.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s fine, these aren’t my best pair,” Theo replies, flashing a charming smile and picking up a napkin from a nearby stand. Jisoo doesn’t know whether she should take it as good or bad news that he seems far from mad. Or even remotely shaken up by the splotches of chowder blooming along the leather. “So, can I join you guys for breakfast or what?”

“Uh…” Jisoo doesn’t dare look behind her, and quietly, tentatively, nods. “It’s the least I can do, right, with your shoes and yesterd…” She trails off.

“Thanks. Really, it’s not a big deal,” he answers, and she wants to kick herself for apologizing for whatever happened last night. She didn't deserve any blame, to be frank—regardless, she points at their table, and he graciously glides off, and she looks at his retreating figure, baffled, as he makes his way around the table introducing himself to a nonchalant Taehyung, frowning Jungkook, and amused Jimin.

“They probably are a big deal,” A voice remarks behind her, and she doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is, her second culprit for the ridiculous tension in the atmosphere—but she does anyway. Jennie plops a few slices of cucumber onto her plate, which is practically a forest, all leaves and lettuce and kale. “I recognize the brand, and there’s no way those aren’t over a thousand dollars.” She delicately places a couple cherry tomatoes in her salad, finishing with some balsamic. “Either he cares for you or he has ulterior motives, right?”

Jisoo huffs. “Thanks for the analysis.”

“You’re welcome,” she says plainly, drifting over to the pastries section and plucking a chocolate croissant onto her plate. “But you were dead asleep when I came into the room, so I was assuming you’d ditched him.” She reaches over for a slice of butter. “Or did I completely misjudge him? Is he not a dick after all? Shocker.”

Jisoo’s tempted to stubbornly answer _yes_ , just for the sake of sounding smug, but goes with the truth. “Well, that’s what I’m confused about.” She bites her lip. “I pushed him away last night and he was pretty annoyed, but now he’s acting all buddy-buddy—“

“I wouldn’t call trying to get into your pants that, but sure—“

“—and I have no idea why,” she finishes, rolling her eyes but her cheeks scalding, at Jennie’s interruption.

Jennie shrugs, but as she turns away from the rows of fancy California rolls and noodle stations, she seems to pause. “But are you into him?”

Jisoo makes a face, but then rearranges her expression so that it isn’t blatantly obvious she finds him far from attractive. She opts to counter Jennie’s question with one of her own: “Again, why do you care?”

Jennie’s lips slide into a grin. “Touché. But I thought you’d figured that out.”

Jisoo hesitates. Had she? If playing that brief conversation in her head for at least an hour before she fell asleep counted as figuring out its meaning, she had. But exceptional reading comprehension skills aside, she hadn’t gotten any closer to reading between the lines and deciphering _why_ Jennie had said what she had. There had definitely been a lot of room for interpretation.

“But he’s free game?” Her voice cuts into her thoughts, sharp, and she gives Jennie a strange look, like _why the fuck would anyone want to listen to a guy talk football for five hours and then have him make out with you?_ Jennie remains peacefully stoic, tilting her head to the side.

“I mean. I was under the impression that you had a boyfriend,” Jisoo says.

“Maybe it’s time you snap out of that impression, then.”

Jennie leaves soon after saying that, and Jisoo makes her way to the table near the window, where Jimin is hitting it off with Taehyung and Lisa, caught up in discussing some indie band’s latest studio album. Jungkook and Theo seem to be deep in sports talk—well, as deep you could get within the subject, anyway—and Jisoo wishes she’d dragged Rosé out of bed for breakfast. But no. She’d insisted that she needed more sleep after the long night she’d had, having crashed onto Jisoo’s bed at around 4 a.m., and when Jisoo asked her about it, she snored and started singing lullabies in French and Jisoo wisely shut up and left her alone to her Parisian dreams.

“Hey, bae,” Theo says as she slides into the seat farthest from him. _Bae?_ She would rather throw herself off a cliff than ever say that. Or even hear it. Again. Besides, when had she become Theo’s bae? As far as she was concerned, rejecting his advances should have done the trick, and punctured his ego enough for him to never look at her again.

But no. He kept remarking on how he loved girls that ate well (such a disgusting cliché) as she quietly chugged down her orange juice and swallowed her bacon strips, and would laugh so loudly at his own corny jokes that she _wanted_ to choke just to leave the table. Jennie’s presence isn’t of much help either when she arrives, sniping at his words just enough for him to get worked up and jabbing with short, sarcastic comments. She wonders why she’s so riled up early on in the morning, but she takes another look and realizes that she’s not angry, she’s actually triumphant—over what, she has no clue.

Jisoo speaks up maybe once or twice despite Theo’s many attempts at small talk, and she’s never been more excited to head up to her hotel room once she’s done. Thankfully, everyone’s too engaged in their respective conversations (Jennie engaged in throwing Theo off track as much as possible) to offer to accompany her, so she slips away unnoticed and returns to a Rosé still draped across her covers in her dress from last night.

Jisoo accidentally drops her phone in the bathroom while washing her face, and Rosé shrieks before hopping out of bed. Jisoo almost screams back, surprised at the sudden noise, but Rosé joins her in the bathroom, rubbing her eyes groggily, and mumbles, “Oh, it’s you, not some crazy serial killer thudding around in my bathroom.”

“You don’t sound too excited about that,” Jisoo points out while reaching for her toothbrush, then putting it back, deciding that she could use some chips from the cabinet.

“No, I’m like…” Rosé stops, blinks, and crouches against the sliding door, her head falling back onto her propped knees.

“Sleepy?” Jisoo suggests.

She laughs. “There’s that. But hey, how was breakfast? I heard it cost a fucking fortune.”

Jisoo sighs. “Unfortunately, I was too busy trying to ignore how irritating Theo was to appreciate the quality of the food. I don’t get it. I remember telling him no yesterday, and him being a bastard for it.” She notices that Rosé’s gone oddly quiet. “ _Roseanne._ What did you do?”

“I uh.” She tries for a sheepish smile. “Nothing. He just asked some questions about you and I answered them. Honestly.”

“ _How_ honestly?”

“What do you /mean/ how honestly?” She sighs. “Okay. Very honestly.”

“And do you think any of your answers could explain why he is suddenly acting like I’m some challenge he has to win over and therefore has to sugarcoat and butter up?”

She groans. “Yes.” Jisoo prods her with her elbow, sinking down on the bathroom tiles next to her. “He asked which group or company or whatever your dad owned, because he heard about my family’s status, and I told him you were a scholarship student at Hollister.”

Jisoo frowns. “There’s... nothing curious about that, though.”

“Yeah, the thing is…” She stops, tries again. “The thing is that he also belongs to my type of world. He’s only ever hung out with, and made out with, people from our world, which is to say he’s only ever been with people he could predict and understand. Sadly, the instant he found out you were not, he was captivated by you.”

Jisoo knits her eyebrows. “So he has a poor person fetish.”

Rosé winces. “That sounds really bad. But yes,” she says resignedly, and meets her eyes earnestly. “I’m sorry if that causes any trouble for you in the near future. I could tell him I was lying to cover for you and you’re actually the secret granddaughter of the Samsung CEO?” She asks hopefully, sincerely.

Jisoo shakes her head. “It’s fine, it’s not like you meant for this to happen. I guess I’ll just have to do my best to avoid him while I’m here. Heck, maybe I’ll get lucky and this will be his last day here.”

“Maybe,” Rosé repeats dubiously.

# ♔

“Do you think ten times is enough for me to Google ‘how to get some random guy you kissed once to stop calling you bae, babe or baby’?”

Rosé gives her an apologetic look, before shifting into a more determined demeanor. “I take full responsibility for this disaster, so I can go tell him to shove his shitty pet names up his ass if you want.”

Jisoo pretends to think. “You know, I have a feeling he might not take that all that well.”

Lisa snorts, chewing her gum loudly and smacking it. It’s obnoxious, but also oddly endearing and classy. Jisoo had to hand it to the girl for making the simplest of acts so… cool. She looks down at her phone when it chimes, and she glances up and motions to a guy heading over to them—Jimin.

Rosé’s eyes follow Lisa’s gestures and her eyes narrow. “Um. Lisa, what did you say the name of your new friend was?”

“I didn’t, but you’ll be meeting him in ten seconds, anyway, so wait.”

Jimin jogs over to them, but then he slows evidently down when he spots Rosé. “Uh…?”

“Yeah, Lisa, the thing is,” Rosé says, turning to Lisa, “We kind of already met sixteen years ago.”

“Seventeen,” he corrects, and she looks torn between throttling him and hugging him. She goes in for both, wrapping her arms around him but squeezing a bit too tight for him to look comfortable. “I thought you were still in Korea!” She exclaims, looking him up and down.

“Well, obviously, I’m not.” He looks at a shocked Lisa and Jisoo, and chuckles. “We’re technically cousins. My family’s still located in Korea, and I go to school in Seoul, but my parents send me off for vacation here once in a while. Rosie and I meet, what, once a year? Once two years?”

“Probably the latter, because my dad and his dad hate each other’s guts,” she says cheerfully. “Thank God we’re nothing like them, or we’d be ripping each other to shreds constantly. We hate each other just enough to still remain on speaking terms," she grins.

“That’s… wow,” Jisoo says, suddenly noticing the subtle resemblance between the two.

“Wow as in I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner,” Lisa says in awe, but she’s quickly disrupted by Theo swooping in yet again, most likely to ask if Jisoo needs anything, if her friends need anything, and glare at Jimin for being a guy in this group of girls.

She’s more than right, as Theo does all of the three things she’d predicted, taking his time to brag about his achievements to intimidate Jimin. To her delight, Jimin is nowhere near rattled—in fact, he hardly appears interested, which must be driving her “bae” crazy. (She had to start getting used to it at some point, because it looked like Theo and his peculiar preference towards not-exactly-affluent girls were here for the long run.)

She zones out while Theo continues to list off all the spectacular games he saved, providing all of them with loads of not only boring, but also irrelevant details, such as how brightly the sun had been shining on the day of his first sophomore year game, blah blah blah. She strangely feels like someone’s watching them from behind, and glances behind her back—to meet Jennie’s eyes.

Her stare is calm, but in the way that’s powerful, perfectly controlled. She looks almost… resolved, and in a way that suggest she’s probably plotting to how best to wreak havoc on a relationship or destroy an unsuspecting bloke’s heart. She catches her staring, and her eyebrow twitches in apparent anticipation.

Jisoo manages to shut Theo up and get him to go away by asking for a turtle stuffed animal from the gift shop, which she specifically knew they didn’t have because she’d already spent the afternoon scouring the store for one. (It was actually kind of sweet how he wanted to make her happy so bad—if only he wasn’t so obsessed with a game played with a ball with stitches and the horrific word babe.) But as he goes off on his quest to look for the nonexistent product—suddenly, out of nowhere, Jennie joins him.

 _Jennie_ joins him, her hair high up in a ponytail and legs in tight jeans. He, being the typical guy that he is, looks like Christmas came early upon seeing her and enthusiastically responds as she walks next to him in all her Chanel glory.

When they finally return, Theo has pretty much forgotten all about why he made the trip to the gift shop and is practically drooling as Jennie lets her hair down, her locks falling in waves of obsidian.

“Isn’t this adorable? He got this for me,” she says, holding up a stuffed cat with upturned, lime green eyes and a sleek black body, shooting him an admiring look anyone with two eyes would be able to tell was incredibly fake.

“Uh, yeah,” Lisa says, puzzled at the sudden change in his object of affection. “Sure.”

“It looks a lot like you,” Jimin volunteers, and Jennie pokes Theo’s arm.

“Did you hear that? It looks like me, isn’t that funny?”

“What?” Theo says, snapping out of his trance just to stare at Jennie some more.

Jennie laughs, a light, tinkling sound, and hook her arm into his, which does nothing but contribute to Theo’s growing state of joyful bewilderment. “He’s feeling a little light-headed, I suppose. He said he had something to show me in his room, so we’ll be off.”

“You’ll be off,” Jisoo repeats, and something about Jennie’s gaze unsettles her. It’s not challenging her, exactly, but it’s… almost pleading. Imploring.

For what, though? For her to not enter their room for the next couple hours or even the entire night while they do God knows what? Jisoo looks down at her feet, in tattered sneakers and not treacherous high heels, gratefully, and Jimin says something to Jennie that goes right over her head (literally). When she looks up, they’re walking towards the elevators, neither of them giving her a second glance.

Well. Jennie turns around at that second and she swears she pins her down with the same pleading gaze, but at this point, she’s sure she’s imagining things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2021 everyone!! Sorry I haven't been posting super often but I promise the drama is building up ;) Hope all of you are starting this year off amazing!  
> I also wanted to do some self-promo (always so much fun haha) and plug in a blog/website a friend of mine and I recently created—feel free to pop in and read some posts, even though we're just in our _very_ early stages as of now! : www.lacemessed.com  
> Thanks always for reading and let me know your thoughts!


	10. we might be hollow but we're brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jungkook should be a psychologist, too bad he's busy aiding Lisa in her brilliantly evil schemes. Jennie apparently has some secret desire to swim in the ocean underneath the moon.

“This is ridiculous,” Jisoo yelps as Rosé strides into the room, reluctantly dragging a reluctant Jungkook, with Taehyung trailing behind them. Jimin enters right after, holding up a few bags of chips and plastic bottles of water. (Fancy ones.)

“Lisa asked for refreshments,” he says, placing them on the table in front of them as they all crash down on the U-shaped sofa, Jungkook complaining that Rosé had stretched his favorite shirt, to which she replies by smacking the back of his head. Taehyung winces looking at the scene, and Jimin seems to decide to put a little distance between him and the blonde, wondering when his cousin had gotten so violent since he last saw her.

Lisa takes the picture in front of her with a proud smile. “I’m honored to know this many of you would show up this quickly at my call,” she starts, and Taehyung speaks up.

“We were promised drama and surprises, so if you don’t deliver, I’m leaving,” he says, glancing around at the rest of them, who nod in agreement.

Lisa rolls her eyes. “I can _assure_ you that all of you will be quite shocked after I tell you, well, what I’m about to tell you. But first, settle down. Jisoo, you too,” she says, pushing Jisoo towards an empty spot next to Jimin. She sits down but hides her face with a nearby cushion, groaning into its fluff at what's no doubt about to go down.

“Okay, so we all know who Theo is, right? Blond? Tall? Reminds us all of a slightly—scratch that, extremely—more handsome Jungkook?” They nod, except for Jungkook, who clutches his heart in fake injury. “For those of you who didn’t know, Chae and I pushed Jisoo here to go make out with him last night. She ended up backing out, which, while I don’t exactly understand, I don’t blame her for. So Theo has a damaged ego—“

“Is this what we’re here for? Operation Inflate Theo’s Ego? Because he seemed pretty damn fine when we saw him at dinner,” Taehyung cuts in, sounding bored already.

Lisa tuts impatiently. “ _No_ , honey, I couldn't care less about him. But Taehyung, what you just said, that’s the point. He should be pissed off and sulking, or, at the very least, staying as far away from Jisoo as possible after the damage she did to his precious self-esteem. But that clearly wasn’t the case. The reason remains unknown—“

“Actually,” Rosé interrupts, somewhat abashed, “That was me. I told Theo that Jisoo was attending Hollister on a scholarship and he sort of flipped over it, started perceiving her as a twisted challenge or whatever. I don’t claim his convoluted mindset, but I do claim the blame for the said reason.”

Lisa claps in satisfaction. “More pieces of the puzzle are coming together! So yes, he suddenly is all into Jisoo, laughing at the most drab thing she says—no offense, Jisoo, but he cracked up when you said _the weather is nice today_ , which I think was not optimal comedy material—and hanging onto her every word and basically looking like he’d throw himself off a cliff for her. A little extreme, but at least it makes sense, somewhat.” Her eyes sweep around the room, pleased to see that everyone’s paying close attention. Even Jungkook has put down the zipper of his jacket he was playing with and is looking up at her with mild fascination. “Then what happens?”

“My sister drapes herself over him,” Taehyung snorts.

Lisa snaps her fingers. “Exactly. So now we have to ask ourselves the same, most crucial question again. Why?” She holds up a hand before anyone has the chance to talk. “We all know that Theo, while hot and muscle-y and a gorgeous hunk, was not an object of Jennie’s interest _until_ he started showing interest to _Jisoo_. Let me also tell you something intriguing: Jennie told Jisoo _not_ to hook up with Theo the first night." She glances over at Jungkook with a glint in her eye. "And, if it bothers you at all, Jungkook, that we’re talking about your girlfriend’s romantic exploits, let’s make it clear: that’s also plain bonkers because you and Taehyung didn’t come out of that room until this morning and you should be glad she isn’t holding a knife at your throats.”

Jungkook coughs, his face turning a surprising shade of ruddy pink, but nods.

Suddenly, Rosé gasps, hitting the arm of the sofa with her hand. “There’s no fucking way,” she says, turning around to stare at Jisoo.

“Yes fucking way,” Lisa says smugly. “If the rest of you haven’t caught on—I’d say there’s a pretty good chance Jennie likes Jisoo. Whether or not she knows it or is just acting on it subconsciously, I couldn’t tell you, but you have to admit the way she’s been acting is seriously suspicious.”

Jisoo keeps muttering curses at Lisa into her cushion, feeling her face heat up swiftly. This was _insane_. It didn’t make any sense for Jennie—Jennie _Kim_ , for God’s sake—to like her. She didn’t even actually _like_ Jisoo—she’d made that much clear in pretty much every single one of their encounters—much less like her like _that_. Lisa and Rosé and everyone else whose jaws were dropping like they’d just been told that the world was ending in a week—they were simply, completely, crazy.

“Wait.” Taehyung cuts in, frowning. “But you’re saying my homophobic twin sister is homosexual?”

Lisa lets out a _pssh_ sound. “Taehyung, just because she ratted you and Jungkook out to your parents doesn’t mean that she actually is against your relationship, or the nature of it.”

“Then what?” Jungkook asks, carefully avoiding Taehyung’s eyes, the splotches on his cheeks still radiant.

“She just hates you,” Lisa answers cheerfully, before rubbing her hands together and leaning forwards. “But that’s not the point. What we _do_ with this information is what truly matters.”

“We’re not _doing_ anything,” Jisoo announces firmly, speaking up from the first time, still hiding behind her cushion, worried about just how red her cheeks would be from the incessant blushing.

Lisa sighs. “Honey, you’re fooling absolutely no one.” She turns to the lot of them. “As much as I don’t understand why, Jisoo seems to reciprocate these feelings to a certain extent.”

“Do _not_.” Jisoo mutters.

Lisa waves her hand at her. “Yes, you do. For starters, you started blushing like a sweating tomato under the Florida summer sun the instant I brought this up. If you thought she was a bitch and didn’t care, you wouldn’t have put up with her. You wouldn’t have come to Hawaii—and don’t you dare say you came for us because while that’s flattering, that’s a lie. You wanted more time with her. And you most certainly would not be hiding your head behind a cushion as we discuss the status and future of your crush.”

“Not my crush,” Jisoo mumbles.

Lisa ignores her and continues. “So, let’s start off with one simple topic that’ll lead us to hatch some epic plan that I know we can come up with—who is Jennie? More importantly, what makes her act like this?”

Taehyung actually looks thoughtful as he prepares a response. Finally, he opens his mouth. “She loves attention and detests confrontation. She wants you to see her, notice her, and shower her with love and compliments, especially if she likes you, but you’ll never catch her _asking_ for any of those things. She expects you to read her mind. She could be wearing a purple dress and purple clogs and purple hair extensions and when she asks you her favorite color, she’ll fully anticipate you to say pink, which is the correct answer, by the way. Nicely put, she’s spoiled. Crudely, and frankly put, she’s a hopeless case.”

Rosé whistles. “That’s some deep analysis there.”

Surprisingly, it’s Jungkook who speaks up next. “She wants you to… know her, I think. Well enough that she won’t need to ask you for petty things like tell her how nice she looks or know when she needs a kiss or a hug or you to stay away from her and give her space. Yeah, it’s asking for a lot, but the thing is, she expects a relationship to be almost fairy-tale perfect. Like boom, they read each other’s minds, they finish each other’s sentences, they move with flow and ease and are always together even when they’re apart.” He pauses. “It’s not just that. She’s embarrassed to admit that she wants affection and connection and not just, like, sex and money. Material, natural desires like that, it’s not difficult for her to own up to them and assert dominance, but when it comes to holding her hand at a scary movie or lending a shoulder to cry on when her mom said some bitchy thing to her, she can’t bring herself to ask. She associates the act with weakness. What I found out before our relationship went to hell, that is, when we were still friends, is that she breaks down and crumbles if you don’t pay her to closest attention to make sure you’re holding her up in the all the spots she’s too afraid to talk about.”

“I didn’t know we had a Jennie expert in our midst,” Lisa says, impressed.

He shrugs. “Like I said, we really are better off as friends. We were invincible in kindergarten.”

“Ah, you must have ruled the playground,” Rosé remarks dryly, but even she seems oddly touched by the story.

Jimin raises his hand just then, and Lisa rolls her eyes at the gesture but points at him.

“Thanks for all the intel, which I’m sure I can use for blackmail if I ever get in trouble with Jennie—“

“Don’t try,” Jungkook warns quickly. “She has spies planted everywhere—I wouldn’t be shocked if she figured out your kid celebrity crush or 3rd grade yearbook picture in a quarter of a second.”

Jimin blanches. “Alright, maybe I won’t, but returning to my point—why am I here? I mean, I appreciate you inviting me to your gathering, Lisa, but I don’t get what purpose I serve.”

Lisa grins. “Well, now here’s the fun part. We devise a plan and we get Jennie to trip and fall right into our trap so that Jisoo can kiss the Chanel lipstick off her prissy lips or whatever.”

Jisoo wonders how she hasn’t combusted yet of nerves and butterflies and the growing, pressing need to punch Lalisa Manoban’s porcelain face.

“But we do need to make sure that Jennie didn’t just hit her head on a pole walking and now actually finds Theo worth cheating on Jungkook with.”

“She kissed her _math tutor_ six months back, and he was a total geek, so I wouldn’t put it past her,” Jungkook says darkly, but with a hint of amusement.

“That’s where you come in, Chim. I heard there was some Thanksgiving-related celebration or party or orgy or whatever happening in the Ballroom tomorrow at dinner, and you be Jisoo’s date.” She barrels on before either of them can argue. “Why, you ask? Jungkook is Jennie’s fucking boyfriend, not to mention that he’s also fucking Taehyung.” (To say both of them go bright red at that moment would be an understatement. They practically start to _glow_.) “It would be pretty pathetic and obvious if he were to escort Jisoo. Taehyung is a no-go for the same reason, and Rosé has flaunted her flamboyant straightness ever since elementary school with a stellar track record of sexy sports players for one-night-stands, and unfortunately, while I _am_ bi, I have a date for tonight, and no, I’m not telling any of you nosy people.”

Jimin seems to think this over, before nodding breezily. “Anything to make sure you don’t have to suffer through another excruciating kiss, my friend,” Jimin says, extending a hand to Jisoo, which she contemplates swatting way but ends up shaking. He stops, and turns to Lisa with a vaguely frightened expression. “Wait, but won’t that mean I’ll be making Jennie mad?” He shudders. “Based on just what I’ve heard today, I don’t think that would be the wisest of ideas.”

“And you would be right, but sacrifices must be made,” Lisa says briskly. Jimin keeps staring at her in fear, and she huffs. “Fine. I’ll upgrade your dingy-ass two-bed room to a proper suite, the presidential one if I can convince Jungkook’s uncle with my exceptionally annoying begging skills. _If_ you succeed, that is,” she adds as Jimin perks up considerably. “If not, well, Jennie’ll get to you before any of us do, so I’m not worried.” She smiles.

“Okay, but is that the whole plan?” Rosé asks, sounding doubtful. “That doesn’t sound much like one to me.”

“Slow down, Miss Roseanne, we’re getting there.” Lisa replies. “But to be honest, we don’t need much except a shit ton of nerve on Jisoo’s part and uncharacteristic honesty on Jennie’s. So I suggest we just put them in a quiet room together and have them work it out.”

Jisoo finally looks up at her, her eyes murderous. “No way in _hell_.”

“Jisoo, I did not raise you to be a coward,” Rosé says indignantly, poking Jisoo’s foot with her toes.

“Exactly, because you _didn’t_ raise me,” she retorts, but sighs. “What would I even say? ‘Oh hey, Lisa and Rosé and your boyfriend, brother, and my date think you’re madly in love with me but you don’t know it so you need a little push, so here I go, haha, do you like me?’”

Jungkook shrugs. “Sounds good enough to me.”

Jisoo throws her cushion at him, which he dodges with his stupid reflexes and flings back at her, which she fails to dodge with her blatant _lack_ of said reflexes. “Then why don’t _you_ go say that to her?”

“Because I don’t like her like that, and she doesn’t like me, not to mention that we’re already dating?”

Rosé frowns at how strange that sentence sounded.

“So it’s decided?” Lisa prompts. “Jimin takes Jisoo and risks provoking the wrath of Jennie, we observe if she gets pissed off at the sight, and if she does, we manage to shut them in a room somewhere and pray for Jisoo’s life?”

Jisoo glares at her.

“Sounds perfect,” Rosé croons, and Jisoo turns her glare to her. She response with a shrug. “I’m being supportive regardless of the rather peculiar taste you seem to have in people. Don’t blame me.”

Lisa squeals. “Okay, then it’s settled. We rendezvous at the lobby tomorrow at seven o’clock sharp, dressed our best and ready to do some stalking and plotting. Everyone got that?” To Jisoo’s surprise (and dismay), all of them nod eagerly. Jisoo blames Lisa’s knack for leadership entirely. She would make an amazing dictator. She catches her looking at her and winks. “You’re going to thank me so much later.”

Jisoo has her doubts.

# ♔

Jisoo is very glad she insisted on wearing her sneakers underneath the crazy purple pouf of her dress, as her legs are shaky and her feet restless as she slips her arm into Jimin’s. He gives her a reassuring look, which isn’t that reassuring because he still seems rightfully terrified by the prospect of being hunted down by a furious Jennie Kim.

Lisa click-clacks her way back to them, the crowds somehow parting the way open for her as she weaves her way between. She rubs her hands, which are clothed in dainty white gloves with flowers and lace trim, and claps them once determinedly. “Okay, I’ve sent my date off to get some drinks and taken inventory of the room. Jennie’s at the far left corner, Theo wrapped around her finger, so it’s time to blow shit up!” She winks and nudges the pair of them to the left, a weakly protesting Jisoo and a pale Jimin.

“If I get murdered for this, I’m so blaming it on you,” he mutters under his breath, and Jisoo hears it, but her heart’s pounding too loudly for her to care. A couple seconds pass in which she frantically tries not to stomp on others or have her feet stomped on, and whisper-yells at Jimin for not being tall enough to look over all the hordes of people (she earns a well-deserved glare for that), and she sees her. Wearing a tight dress with a square neck that shows off an extravagant ruby necklace that taps against her chest every time she moves.

“Now what,” she mumbles to Jimin, trying to move her mouth as little as possible.

“We… let her see us?”

“And how would we—woah!” Someone pushes both of them from the back (Jisoo would be damned if it wasn’t Rosé) so that they stumble into the small clearing of space right in the line of Jennie’s vision. Although Jisoo’s certain she’s known they were there since they arrived at the entrance, she still turns around and pretends to be surprised, but in a bored way. (She'd mastered that look.)

“Oh, hi,” she says politely, hand still clutching Theo’s arm, the other holding up a champagne flute filled to the brim. She sets the glass down and tugs at Theo, who looks down at her from a conversation he’d been having with a gentleman who looked like a carbon copy of him, just twice his age. “This is?” She nods at Jimin, who Jisoo swears is visibly shaking.

“Jimin, this is Jennie, one of the, um, people I’m on this trip with,” she says, elbowing Jimin to stop his silly shivering and _move_. He waves weakly. “Jennie, this is Jimin, my date.”

“Oh?” She says simply, arching an eyebrow like she’d done pretty much every time they’d come across each other, in a way that suggested she was only acting interested because it would be the courteous thing to do. “Nice to meet you, Jimin.”

“You too,” Jimin responds, and Jisoo’s surprised he hasn’t had a meltdown already. Thankfully, he seems to stand taller when Theo glances over at them, and swings an arm around Jisoo, who fights back a snicker at his sudden move. “Do you want to go get some drinks, Jisoo?”

“What? Er, yeah, sure,” she says quickly. “I’ll see you later, then,” she adds to Jennie, whose eyebrow is still in place and partly to Theo, who’s squinting at her like, _Have I seen you before?_ (She wouldn’t be all that shocked if Jennie was actually a talented witch and had fed him a powerful love potion, based on the lovesick way he was acting. Then again, Jennie didn’t need magic to bewitch people.) (Then again, Jisoo really shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts. She was doing nothing but exposing herself even more to Lisa.)

Jimin breathes out when they’ve walked far away enough to be completely out of earshot. “Thank God I’m still in one piece.”

“You aren’t going to be anymore if you keep shaking, quit it,” Jisoo hisses as she notices Rosé approaching them with a smug smirk.

“How did it go? Are you both grateful for my little push?”

“Hardly, but fine, I guess. Now do we… wait? Until Taehyung, Jungkook, and Lisa make sure that Jennie’s kicking some innocent ass?” Jisoo asks, growing more and more dubious of the plan by the second.

“That’s right,” she affirms, and proceeds to drag them (she had a lot of strength in her arms for someone so skinny, Jisoo thinks begrudgingly) over to the desserts table, and starts to cram her mouth with macaroons. She passes them each some strawberries dipped in chocolate. “Eat up while you can. Jimin, you’ll need it if the plan goes haywire and Jennie decides to chase you to hell, in which case I can tell your father you had a peaceful death. Jisoo, you’ll need it if it works and you have to face telling Jennie the brutal truth.” She giggles at the expressions on their faces. “Lighten up. If we do succeed, do I need to remind you that you get a suite,” she points at Jimin, “And you get a girlfriend?” She turns her finger on Jisoo, who blushes and shoves the strawberry in her mouth to cover it up.

They stay and chat for a couple anxious minutes, Rosé stuffing her mouth full with all sorts of delicate treats, from cupcakes to pudding cups, and eagerly passing them to Jisoo and Jimin, who both don’t look like they’re particularly hungry but swallow them anyway. They were nervous, but they did still have their taste buds, and these desserts were gold. (Quite literally, in some cases, or at least gold-plated.)

Jungkook finally appears in front of them, his hands in his pockets and his hair tousled. “Lisa tells me to give you the go sign, Jisoo. She said something about the reception room near the front of the lobby being free and she was going to somehow get Jennie there?”

Jisoo swallows then knits her eyebrows, perplexed. “How, though? It’s not like they’re really on—ohh.” Her mind quickly flashes back to those days in the cafeteria when Lisa seemed so at ease and content dancing around Jennie’s temper.

“You forget that our friendships date way back to when we were using diapers,” he remarks. “Now shoo, I doubt that Jennie’ll choose to lock herself in some room for long at a _party_.”

Thanks to her horrible sense of direction, Jisoo has to ask at least five hotel employees, all of whom are wonderfully polite but not the best explanation-givers, to reach the reception room, which is marked ‘empty’. She closes her eyes briefly and considers bolting, but something, something about knowing that Jennie was in there pushes the door open.

The door swooshes open, and she’s there. Jennie.

She whips around at the sound of the door opening, before tilting her head in apparent confusion. “Lisa promised me something fun. I expected fireworks.”

Jisoo laughs feebly. “Haha. Well. I can be fun.”

Jennie stares at her like she grew another head. And another eye.

Jisoo drops the pretense, steps a few steps closer. Jennie looks at her carefully, closely, but doesn’t back away or come any nearer. Before she can say anything, though, Jennie speaks first.

“I remember this room had a breathtaking balcony. Want to come with?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, but plows ahead, throwing open the curtains and pushing the sliding window to the side and stepping out.

Jisoo follows her out, gasping quietly at how warm—pretty much _hot_ —the weather was against her bare skin.

Jennie keeps walking forward until she’s right at the edge, and places her crossed arms over the marble handrail, looking over at the darkened pools and black ocean. “It’s funny, really,” she begins, and Jisoo doesn’t say anything (mainly because she has no idea what she’s talking about). “It’s the same ocean, but no one wants to approach it, let alone swim in it, in the dark. You’d never guess it was the same vibrant turquoise place it is in the mornings and the days when everyone wants a piece of the cool water.” She turns to Jisoo, her hair falling out of its curls and flying in the soft breeze. “You ever gone swimming at night?”

“No…?”

She snorts. “Of course. I didn’t peg you for the type.”

“Well, only because the only access I had to water was the shitty neighborhood pool, which was _closed_ at night,” she says, oddly feeling like she had to defend herself. Jennie looks at her strangely, and Jisoo holds her breath, lets it out, and she’s about to launch into a whole story about how Lisa is delusional and thinks they are, you know, interested in each other, when Jennie cuts across again.

“That dress is ludicrous, by the way. You look like a puffy cloud.”

Jisoo huffs. “Thank you so much for the insults you take the time to give me every day.”

“You’re so very welcome.” She looks at her again, and Jisoo’s eyes flit down to her glittering necklace before landing on her eyes, which shine with a hint of honesty. “But you do look nice.”

Jisoo wonders if her ears have lost their minds.

“And yeah, I guess I chased Theo because he doesn’t deserve you. You were looking like you were going to die if he called you bae again, which, by the way, I kindly explained to him no girl with half a brain ever wanted to hear.” The small corner of Jennie’s lip quirks up. “I thought you had a question to ask me?”

Jisoo looks at her, dumbfounded, before clearing her throat. “Well. You seem to already know, but do you… do you, you know, maybe, kind of, not really—do you like me?”

Jennie looks almost impressed at how she had forced those words out, and a little nervous, if that was even possible. She opens her mouth, closes it, and opens it again. Hesitates. “You see, I don’t know a lot of things. I thought I knew my parents, I didn’t. I thought I knew Taehyung, I didn’t, and I most definitely didn’t know he was going behind my back with my boyfriend, however preposterous our relationship was. I thought I knew this dress would be the perfect length for me, but it’s a little too long for my liking. So I don’t know, but I think, yeah. And I think you look great, and I think Theo is way too dumb and not even cute or hot enough for you, and I think you would make a great trophy wife to a rich heiress.” She laughs. “And I think your face is a little too red to be healthy.”

Jisoo has forgotten how to form words, let alone sentences, let alone a full paragraph like the one Jennie just dumped on her unsuspecting mind.

“I’ll leave you to your thoughts, then. But hey—who put you up to this? Because I know you didn’t orchestrate this all by yourself.”

Jisoo blinks. “Um, Lisa, Tae—“

Jennie’s gaze hardens, before softening. “That _bastard_.” She says it meanly, but with a strange tint of affection. She pushes back from the rails, ready to leave, before turning around and asking Jisoo, “Where is he?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this update because I totally had a blast writing it, thanks always!! :)


	11. i'll let you in on something big

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo needs to punch a certain Frank Yang. She also needs to apologize to her stuffed rabbit, Buggy the Bunny (don't you dare judge her for the name).

"Taehyung— _Taehyung_!” Jisoo shouts as loud as she can without earning any more glares from the uptight people surrounding her, which is to say, pretty quietly. Naturally, Taehyung doesn’t hear her, and keeps on chatting placidly with an elderly woman wearing a pink two-piece set. She picks up the pace frantically and finally reaches him.

She grabs his arm, startling both him and the lady, who looks at Jisoo confusedly and almost as if she’s insulted, like _who are_ you _to interrupt my wonderful conversation with this lovely gentleman?_ Jisoo ignores her and quickly repeats what had happened before Jennie left the balcony (minus her whole confession part, she couldn’t bear thinking about that now, not yet), and adds hastily, “There isn’t any way _bastard_ is an endearing term between you two…?”

Taehyung looks down at her like she’s crazy. “No, you bastard.”

“Well, then you’re dead meat,” she says hurriedly, starting to drag Taehyung away from a disappointed old lady. She spots an open set of doors that seem to lead to an empty room of some sort, and quickly slips in, panting from the effort of practically carrying him all the way.

Massaging the spot where she'd grabbed him, he looks at her like _what was_ that _for?_ “Do you honestly expect her to hunt me down and murder me?”

She gives him a skeptical look.

He snorts. “She had one too many chances to do that and she never did. She might hate me, but she’d never physically harm me. Mostly because my parents would ground her for life if she went to jail for committing homicide to her own twin brother.”

Jisoo pretends not to notice the implications of the _physically_ and scans her whereabouts. They seem to be in a dressing room, with racks and racks stocked with glistening silver hangers showing off clothes with buttons, pearls, and peter pan collars, and Jisoo sees another door slightly off to the side and ventures forth. The doorknob is intricately designed, a bit rusty, perhaps, but definitely of much value. She slowly turns it and enters, and is stunned to see she’s discovered a room completely filled with mirrors. It wasn’t just the walls that were covered in her reflections from all degrees and angles, it was the ceiling— _and_ the floor, she realized with a start, almost jumping when she looked down and was greeted by her own eyes. She’s about to leave to tell Taehyung about this mysterious room when she hears footsteps—the telltale creak of a door opening—and a soft, dangerous voice.

_Shit._

She contemplates running out and taking Taehyung with her to protect him from Jennie’s claws, but Jennie starts talking, and it shocks her how well she can make out each word she’s saying—enough to make her stop and listen.

“So, I’ve been informed that you were part of this messy plan to somehow get Jisoo with me,” she begins, and Jisoo’s heart does a couple somersaults at her name. (She’s seriously worried that Jennie’ll be able to hear the erratic beats, what with the walls being impossibly thin and all.) “And I appreciate the effort, although I suspect you weren’t the one who necessarily proposed this idea… but.” She stops. “But why?”

“You would be correct. I wasn’t really the mastermind behind this scheme,” he replies, the ice in his tone masked with just enough fake warmth, and Jisoo, upon trailing her palms against the cold door, finds a keyhole (yes, a keyhole) and is delighted to see that she can make out Taehyung’s fancy black pants and the flounces of Jennie’s skirt when she pressed her right eye right against it. (She feels much like an obsessed stalker at this point, but hey, she was going to be stuck in this room with herself—with a _lot_ of herselves, in fact—for the foreseeable future, she might as well gain entertainment from her vantage point.)

“You didn’t answer the question,” Jennie says.

He’s quiet for a bit. “You know, when people began to call you a bitch, when we were, what freshmen? I used to always stand up for you.” Jennie snorts. “I get your doubt, knowing that we were never the most friendly siblings in the world, but family’s family.”

She laughs, a cruel sound. “Who are you, Dad? That phrase is absolute bullshit—I know family is _family_ , that’s like saying a teacup is a teacup, but it doesn’t _mean_ anything. If a family member fucks up, they fucked up and you don’t need to forgive them or defend them or even go back to them.”

Taehyung turns around and pulls a folding chair out of the lower racks, props it open, and sits down on it, arms crossed, legs crossed. Jisoo can faintly make out his face. He raises an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting that I don’t forgive you, defend you, or go back to you?”

She scoffs. “Judging by the way you just said ‘used to’, I would hazard a guess that you don’t do any of those three things anyway.”

“True. But is that why you never tried to patch things up with me?” He sounds almost hurt, and strangely full of passion. “Look, I’m not saying I’m willing to accept your apology—with still hasn’t arrived, by the way—and move on, but that’s a step forward. And ever since that… thing happened, you’ve just… chosen to disappear from my life.”

“You don’t _want_ me in your life, Taehyung, let’s not kid.” Jennie says lightly, but like she’s skating across thin ice.

“Who’re you to speak on my behalf?” He retorts.

“The person you don’t want in your life,” she jokes, but stops when he doesn’t crack a smile. “Taehyung, I uh… maybe it’s not the best time, but I came to deliver that. That, er, apology. I, um, kind of realized I was the one that’d fucked things up and you were still doing nice things for me. Or at least not jumping in and ruining it when other people did nice things for me.”

He doesn’t look up at her, but starts talking. “I did it for Jisoo, yeah, but I do want you to be happy, you know. I mean, you being unhappy doesn’t give me pleasure, if that’s what you thought.”

“That’s… sweet of you. Considering what I—“ She pauses, before plowing through. “I agree with you, I don’t deserve forgiveness. I don’t even want it. What I did was literally the worst thing I could do to you and I knew that and I went ahead and did it. It’d be absurd to want an ‘it’s all good’ from you.” Jisoo sees her wrings her hands, twisting them together. “God, you do realize I have never been this fucking vulnerable since—oh _fuck_ , since ten minutes ago when I spilled my fucking guts out to the one girl I can’t stand for reasons I can’t name.” She takes a breath shakily. “Anyway. I’m sorry. Really, really sorry.” She seems to lighten up for a second when Taehyung lifts his gaze to her eyes. “Can I slide in a snide remark there or no?”

He rolls his eyes. “Go ahead.”

“I very sincerely hope the amazing sex you’re having on the very fluffy and spacious bed in your suite makes up for the lost years,” she says, stone-faced, and Jisoo can definitely hear the cat-like grin in her voice. “I actually put in a word for you at the hotel lobby with Jungkook’s uncle so that you bed would be comfortable for engaging in certain activities, and wouldn’t squeak as much because Jisoo and I did need to get some sleep next doors after all.”

“Oh God, I hate you so much right now,” Taehyung mutters, reddening. “You told Jungkook’s fucking _uncle_ that we’re—uh, about us?”

“No, silly, he knows our parents, and they most certainly don’t need to know you two are back together after the fiasco that blew over last year. I just implied some things, so he probably thinks you’re sleeping with Lisa, Rosé, or God forbid, Jisoo.”

He laughs, and Jisoo swears he winks in her direction for a second, then suddenly glances back at her, looking curious. “But now that we’ve established you don’t hate me—why did you do it?”

“Did what?” She asks innocently. He just looks at her, and she relents. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah,” he answers honestly.

She sighs. “Because you’re a guy.”

He frowns, leaning forwards as if he’d misheard her. “That might’ve made more sense if you switched out the /u/ for an _a_.”

“No, idiot. Number one, I’m lesbian, and if you thought that I outed you and your relationship because it ‘wasn’t natural’ or whatever, you clearly have not been to my room and taken in all the posters in the last five years.” Taehyung’s face morphs into confusion, like _what posters?_ Jennie waves her hand. “Number two, what I mean is that no matter how many feminists there are in the world and how many years we’ve been able to vote for, the world is still a patriarchy-ruled bitch. Our world especially.”

“I wasn’t aware we were living in a different universe,” he remarks.

“The rich people world, you dumbass, the one where we keep trying to figure out how much is a lot of money for commoners. Tell me when you figure that out, by the way, because I’m still not sure how many zeros are too many.” She continues a little bit more tentatively, as if she’s worried about sharing too little and nervous about sharing too much. “Do you remember what our grandfather—Dad’s side—would always say to you when he came by?”

He shrugs. “Probably something along the lines of you’re the future of our corporation, I expect great things from you, is it true that you cried during a movie, how embarrassing, grown men don’t cry?”

“Well, I agree that toxic masculinity is a pain in the ass, but the thing is, I never heard any of that. Ever.” She seems to be getting worked up, her words spilling out like clattering Scrabble tiles. “That’s fine, what they _didn’t_ say to me, I can stand that they didn't have high expectations for me. But what they did say to me was so much worse. Every single time any goddamned relative or family friend came over, it’d be oh, the son of this group, the heir of that company, they’re quite nice, popular with the girls, suitable for a potential husband. Jennie, it’s time to start thinking about these things, you don’t want to ruin your future by marrying the wrong fellow, would you?” She sucks in her breath through her teeth. “It’s only gotten worse and worse by the years. I’ve been on blind dates with Dad’s so-called recommendations, which pretty much means he really wanted a partnership or business deal with those poor dudes’ parents. The problem’s not the guys themselves, honestly. It’s how much power and control our parents exert over me. You know what Mom told me when I was miserable because I didn’t want to go on a second date with this John Alexander Hamilton the fucking _Fourth_?” Her voice cracks. “I’m wearing this nice button-up blouse, and she looks at it, disappears, then barges into my room with this ridiculous, tight-ass fucking top that covered less than half my chest.” She seethes. “Saying some shit about how I might’ve come across as a little _Saint-like_ and how guys wanted to see some skin. Yeah, right. The Hamilton asswipe probably went to his pop complaining that I wasn’t being enthusiastic about being forced to spend two hours with him at a stuffy Italian restaurant, who tattled to _my_ mom, who then reached the totally obvious conclusion that I could then have sex with him, or at least give him the pretense of it with my whore outfit. All of that in order to secure the business deal Dad was on the verge of making.”

Taehyung’s silent for a bit.

Jennie’s voice softens, somewhat tiredly. “That’s honestly not anywhere near an excuse, I know that, Tae. It’s not even an excuse, ‘cause it doesn’t make any sense to take it out on you. Hey, I know that if you’d been there, you would’ve yelled at Mom to shove a stick up her ass or something equally absurd and profane.” She sighs again. “But you, you didn’t have to suffer through any of this, because you were a guy, Hallelujah, congratulations for having a penis and not a vagina, whoo, so proud of you and your blatant lack of boobs.” She laughs briefly. “I guess I really didn’t know where to point to blame, or maybe I did, and I knew it would be no use rebelling against Mom and Dad so I turned it on you.” She stops, then huffs. “And then there’s the fact that you were so happy, humming and dancing all the time, and it irritated the hell out of me. As soon as I walked in on you and Jungkook—”

He chokes out a strangled laugh. “No need to go into details here.”

“Really? I mean, there’s no one around. I’m sure there’s no harm in recapping your—“

He starts to cough loudly enough for Jisoo to wince and take a step back from the door.“There’s no use in it, either,” he manages, his throat hoarse. Jisoo smiles evilly, planning to tease him relentlessly about it later, and presses her eye against the keyhole again.

Jennie shrugs. “Sure. But… I guess it was just all the pent-up frustration exploding, when Dad came up to me while I was watching TV in my room and announced that I’d be going on a date with some Frank Yang, who was the son of a rich philanthropist in China. There was no asking my opinion on it, no caring about what I thought, no consideration for my take on the affair whatsoever.” She sighs again. “I couldn’t tell you what I expected to happen when I threw the bomb at our dinner table, with Jungkook dining _with_ us, other than the fact that the whole family would fall under so much chaos I could avoid the Yang dude. I ended up going on the date by the way, and he basically tried to grope me for three hours straight, if that makes you feel better. Anyway, I knew Mom and Dad would be furious—well, Mom more terrified our neighbors would find out her son’s “best friend” was slightly more than that, and Dad horrified that his son wouldn’t grow up to be a traditional playboy who slept with three different girls a day. But I didn’t think it through, and it was a rash move. Not to mention an extremely dick move.” To Jisoo’s shock, she hangs her head.

He leans forward, and says softly, “Jen, let's make it clear that I am in no way happy that some random guy tried to grope you and that was the price you had to pay for being our parents' daughter. In fact, I'd like to throttle him and throw him down a ditch, thank you very much." She laughs weakly. "I think you’ve explained yourself enough, at least for now.” She looks up at her, and Jisoo can’t see her face at all, but for some reason, she feels like she has tears in her eyes. Taehyung continues gently. “I don’t quite _forgive_ you—for starters, it would need to be a mutual decision, if you get what I’m talking about—but I accept your apology. And I’m… well, I’m sorry I was a sorry brother who you couldn’t go and vent about all this to.”

“Oh, pish, don’t say that, because if _you_ were a bad brother, what kind of sister would _I_ be?”

He grins. “A bad one, most likely. But hey, it all cancels out.”

“I don’t think that’s how cancellation works,” Jennie retorts, but she seems… more relaxed. Kinder around the edges, her usual jagged lines blurred and smudged with what Jisoo would daresay was love.

“Maybe not, but hey, I’m still glad to be related to you.”

“Oh, quit it, you’re going to make me _cry_ ,” she says sarcastically, before turning around. “I’m going to go dip some more marshmallows in the chocolate fountain now. Want to join me?”

“Uh—I’ll be with you in a second,” he says, his eyes flashing to Jisoo. “Let me just take care of something real quick.”

“Alright,” she says, and the door swishes open then closed. Jisoo lets out a relieved breath at not having been found and twists the doorknob, her legs sore from the crouching position she’d been in. She walks out and finds Taehyung putting the chair back where it’d been.

He doesn’t bring up the exchange she'd just witnessed, but he seems... peaceful. Happy, almost. He simply motions for her to follow him out, and she does, a bounce in her step.

She suddenly remembers—“Hey, so what exactly did Jennie see?”

His ears turn bright pink. “Nothing,” he replies quickly, before slipping outside the room, leaving Jisoo to shake her head and giggle.

# ♔

The next couple days are an uneventful mess. By that Jisoo means Rosé keeps getting drunk and Lisa keeps drinking enough to get drunk but doesn’t, and stays perfectly sober and crazy, and both of them keep trying to pry Jisoo for details about her conversation with Jennie. Jisoo doesn’t take a sip of alcohol, worried about what she’d spill, and her time flies by trying to get the two of them under control. She doesn’t try to stay away from Jennie (that’s what she tells herself, at least) but whether it’s due to _Jennie’s_ aversion towards her or a simple string of consequences, they barely meet, and most definitely not one-on-one. When Jisoo goes to bed, Jennie’s not there, and when Jennie wakes up, Jisoo’s not there, so it somehow works all out despite them sharing a room. Or maybe the phrase should be that it _doesn’t_ work all out—but it isn’t a bad kind of waiting, it’s a hopeful one. Jisoo's... content.

On the last day, Jennie somehow manages to sweet-talk one of the maids into packing her stuff into her many, many suitcases, then leaves to “prowl the shopping malls nearby for any last minute finds”. Before she goes out the door, she tells Jisoo to check the bottom drawer of the bedside cabinet. She grumbles and yells back that she’s not going to do her work for her, but she does anyway, the instant Jennie’s left. Inside the drawer is a stuffed turtle.

“What the—“ Jisoo picks it up with caution, afraid of it suddenly detonating and blowing her to bits, and examines it closely. “You’re kidding me.”

She gives it a gentle squeeze, and turns it around in her palms in confusion. The turtle has bright, chestnut-brown eyes and a forest green body, a plush dark shell resting on its back. She holds it by the shell, and almost shrieks when it swings open, like a treasure chest, and a piece of paper flutters to the ground. She leans down and plucks it off the floor.

_Thanks for deciding that the ocean at night isn’t the worst thing after all and choosing to go for a swim in it. If you don’t understand this metaphor, I will punch you. Also, in case you’re wondering how I knew to get you a turtle—I have good hearing. Exceptional, to be honest. Which means I may or may not have noticed you lurking when I was talking to Taehyung._  
_But you’re still cool, even though you spied on me. Who knew I had a thing for stalkers. (Not that I have a thing for you, of course. I mean, of course not.)_  
_X,_  
_Jen_  
_P.S. I fucking ripped open and sewed the shell weakly together for this surprise. If you didn’t figure out how to open it, I will also punch you. But then you wouldn’t be reading this. Ah well, unexpected attacks are the best kind._  
_P.P.S. I have to add that I stabbed my finger at least half a dozen times with the needle in the process of putting it back together. Feel bad for me, but don’t, because I’m gorgeous and stunning and a wonder to mankind. And womankind._

Jisoo snorts, and folds the paper carefully, tucking it into her pocket. She stares at the turtle, making eye contact with it, and all of a sudden, she grins.

“I think you might have just beat out Buggy the Bunny for the stuffed animal in my heart. Sorry, Bugs,” she yells out to her bed, where her faded purple rabbit sits. She almost has to stuff her fist into her mouth to stop _smiling_ so goddamn much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little weaker on the romance (which I promise is totally going to ramp up!!), but I did really want to write a reconciliation scene between Jennie and Taehyung :) Again, thanks for reading, and thanks truly for your comments because they make my day.  
> Also, if you're in the U.S., hope you're taking care of yourselves and taking your time to process things that are happening, or  
> have happened—talking and thinking it through really helps, and it's more than fine to take a break too! (This coming from someone who deleted social media for a week and is actually quite enjoying the freedom hahah) (my friends have been wondering why I went MIA though, so maybe not the best plan) Sending love and hope (honestly, how has it been a year since Covid started?) <3


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